The World According to Martial
by AStormIsBrewing
Summary: ‘Fame comes too late to the dead.’ Giving minor characters their chance at life, one plot bunny at a time.
1. Hero

**I do not own. Please Review.**

**Dudes, I so need a break from AP. This is panic season.**

**Just thought it would be fair to warn you, some of these chapters are actual stories, others are shorter observations. I'm trying to expand my horizons.**

**_To the internet!_**

**21. Hero**

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A time may come for valor without renown . . . .

In the Late days of the war, heros were in short supply. Or perhaps they just showed up in odd places.

In a small water tribe village at the south pole, heros and heroines were far away things best left for story night. They knew their little waterbender Katara was off mastering her element and doing brave things, and that her warrior brother was making a fool of himself (but also doing brave things), but they were so far away, and had been gone for so long now that they were no longer part of their world.

Their leaders had gone, so who would hold them together? Who would share their courage? Who would remind them of their pride, their identity?

Their leaders were gone, but they were not shepardless.

"Our husbands and sons, our brothers and nephews, and now our beloved daughter have gone off to fight their war. We must praise their great bravery, but we must be brave enough to wait for them." Kanna stood on the remnants of her grandson's old guard tower, facing a group of anxious, determined women.

"I know some of you wish to join your husbands and brothers and wish to do your part to end the war and bring them home. And I know the ferocity of water tribe women can put to shame any other warriors from any other nation on this planet. They know not the winter that does not end, know not the ice that flows through our veins. But here we must stay to defend our home and our children."

"Kanna, if the war does not end, soon we will have no home to defend!"

"The Fire Nation has already stolen my children from me!"

Voices raised in accord, and Kanna braced her feet. "Quiet!" she shouted above the din. "I know the pain of losing someone you dearly love. I share that suffering every day with all of you. But if we allow that suffering to cloud our minds and because of it we abandon our homes and families, the Fire Nation has already won!

"But I say, so long as one member of our tribe still draws breath in defiance, in defense of our home, at home or abroad, _we shall not be defeated!_" Kanna had silenced the tribe, and drew herself up as far as her withered back would allow. "You have chosen me to lead you in Hakoda's stead. If any shall renege on this decision, speak now before all sisters of the tribe and all spirits of the sea."

And none would. Kanna was, after all, their hero. She gave them courage and gave them guidance, she was their rock in the ever-shifting tide of life. She made them brave enough to wait for their soldiers to come home, tired of adventure, just to a _home_.

Once upon a time Kanna had been just as they were, but perhaps foolhardy enough to act on it. Maybe there had been better ways, but that was vision in hindsight, and that was something she had no time for. She had a job to do, after all.

She had to be a hero.

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So, dudes, you like? Not like? I'd like to know! This one was sort of inspired by my one true love, and that is Lord of the Rings, as you can see from the epitaph.

I said it once, I'll say it again. **_Main characters need not apply._**

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	2. Clouds

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**15. Clouds - The Uncloudy Day**

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O they tell me of a home far beyond the skies,  
O they tell me of a home far away;  
O they tell me of a home where no storm clouds rise,  
O they tell me of an uncloudy day.

"Sometimes its nice to just sit and be lazy. We can't be saving the world all the time. The sun is so warm, and the sky is such a perfect blue . . . ."

"Perfect day for a nap."

"Perfect day."


	3. Foreign

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**31. Foreign**

**many things were different, but love was not one of them**

_I think I love you_, she said one night. _Is that wrong?_

_Wrong?_ The color of her skin was not the same as his. Her eyes were shaped different, colored different, the world had made them different.

But when he closed his eyes, skin was skin, to be touched and kissed.

He was a boy. She was a girl. That was the only difference that mattered, and that was part of what brought them together. The war faded, the boundaries of culture fell.

He was a boy, she was a girl. There was nothing foreign about love.


	4. Expectations

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**49. Expectations**

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It was not as if she didn't love them.

Quite the opposite, in all reality. She loved them and wanted their love in return more than she could possibly say. This gave her an excuse to be perfectly uncivil and also to pursue a puerile form of escapism, because she didn't say. At all.

The facade was what it was - another expectation the world had placed on her, to substitute another. But how long could she wear the mask before the mask defined who she was?

Indefinitely, was the answer. Beneath the mask she was still human, and certainly much safer.

It was nice, though. This mask had wings, and two feet to walk past the troubles of the world, or fly over them as necessary.

No, it wasn't as if she didn't love them. They would just need to learn to love her, and then she would come back. They weren't that stupid, were they?


	5. Ink and Brush

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**89. Ink and Brush**

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With the stroke of a brush, he pierced her heart, and that was her blood with which he wrote the message. Mai clutched the scroll, crinkling it up as she pressed it to her heart. It was already well-abused, but she couldn't bring herself to destroy it, for all the grief it had caused her.

It had to be said, she admired his skill. It took a masterful stroke to break something already so damaged.

So with practical and well-practiced indifference, Mai hid whatever hurt she received. It was not as if she acted any different. Ty Lee might have sensed it. Azula might have seen it. But neither were exactly capable of comforting their normally dreary friend, and the latter probably didn't care to.

Comfort might weaken her resolve in the battle that would undoubtably come.

Well, traditional forms of comfort might. There was always the selfish way. Not everyone could be a saint like Zuko's uncle was.

"You were the one who wanted me to feel," she said to the paper, to the candle, to the darkness. "Now let me feel hate."

Fire consumed the scroll, just as a strange emotion overtook the somber girl. It started in her stomach, and felt like worry. Nervousness. But then her heart got it, too, and when the airy feeling reached her head, she smiled.

She knew just what to do.

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"Do you think Mai is feeling alright?"

Azula glanced over at their usually sober friend, noting a slight spring in her step, and a blush on her cheeks. Odd, certainly, but not unheard of. "She's probably just imagining what she's going to do to my brother when she meets him again. I know that helps me."

"Wow," Ty Lee sighed, resting her chin in her hands. "It must be nice to be in love like that."


	6. Custom

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**94. Custom**

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Tradition drives life and death, right and wrong.

It dictates how we grow and learn, a peasant and a pauper, a prince and a pontiff.

Tradition shapes the world around us.

Or better this: it shapes our eyes, so that we see all around us that which is familiar.

Traditions start wars, dictate how they are won and lost, and inflict peace when the time is right.

Sometimes it is better that they are broken.

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"If I die, I don't want my ashes to be interred in the royal vault."

"Do you take joy in being so morbid?"

"You know it could happen. Just . . . If it does, anywhere is better than there. Just somewhere quiet and out of the way . . ."


	7. Dreams

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**95. Dreams**

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Wind. It was loud, roaring in his ears when all he knew he wanted was more sleep. It was also the first suggestion that something was remotely wrong.

This wrongness, under any other circumstances, could have been an accidentally opened window, but not this time.

Zuko gripped the long, shaggy fur and steeled himself to open his eyes. Ever since he had stolen the Avatar from Zhao, and the child had the gall to think _he_ was the one needing to be rescued, these dreams were a common reoccurrence.

The first time, Zuko, upon realizing just where he was, had panicked and fallen off the bison, waking only moments before he hit the ground. The next few incidences he had realize the opportunity. The Avatar was alone. Sure, it was a little dangerous starting a fight on the back of a flying bison, but it was a dream. It made for good practice.

So, now, falling off was nothing more than another frustrating escape.

"Morning, Zuko!" the Avatar chirped, smiling like the fool he was. A fool who had been able to defeat him every time they encountered one another, dream or no, but still a fool. "You gonna sit and listen for once?"

_Since you put it that way._ "No."

The Avatar sighed, airbending his way to the Prince. "You know, you're really determined, and I can respect that, but you need to stop and think. Why do you think you're here?"

"So you can torment me with your avatar-powers, and attempt to distract me from my goal."

"I'm a figment of your imagination. I can't do any tormenting from here, so give it a rest. What do you think you're doing here?"

"I . . . ." Zuko paused for a moment, "don't know."

"Exactly."

"Exactly, what?"

"Exactly!"


	8. Fear

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**51. Fear**

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Love and life are two very frightening things.

Both can bring a grown man to his knees, break him, make him cry, kill him, maim him, scar him, and destroy him. So how are children supposed to deal with the volatile emotion and the curse of life?

Their advantage is, quite possibly, their ignorance.

We don't know enough about it to be properly afraid.


	9. Love

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**2. Love**

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Love takes trial and error.

And more error and more error and more error. And even more error.

In fact, the only point at which you may know that you are getting it right is when you are getting it wrong. Something always goes wrong — always, trust Murphy — but you're still there, aren't you? Why?

Because of love, and just like a woman, love is never wrong. It may not be right, but it definitely isn't wrong.


	10. Life

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**71. Life**

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Life is a terrifying thing, when you take a moment to contemplate it. Full of pain and sorrow and fear and the only thing you know is that it could — and will — happen again tomorrow.

Most of the time we don't even think about it. We're busy people, living busy lives, and thank goodness we don't have that time. No one would dare to move.

If you were busy saving the world, in a final, desperate struggle against evil, and someone came up behind you and whispered, "You don't know what's going to happen tomorrow," and you actually thought about it, you would be curled on the ground, sobbing in terror.

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"You don't know what's going to happen tomorrow! Anything could happen!! What if it's another repeat of the invasion?!"

"Actually, I do know what's going to happen tomorrow. The sun will rise, and the sun will set. You'll fight the Firelord. The End. You're allowed to be afraid. You're not allowed to panic, or let that fear make you do something stupid."

"Again."

"Again. Now go to sleep."

"Right. Sleep." . . . "I'm too wired to sleep."


	11. Storm

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**26. Storm -**

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Monsoon season in the Fire Nation produced some spectacular lightning storms. Zuko thought he had lost all regard for the storms, but since they were not directed at him, and since he was not trying to produce them, they were quite — a boom shook the inverted structure of the air temple — majestic.

He was toying with the idea of going out to the main terrace and trying to catch some, or waking Aang and making him practice, when a small form rocketed onto his bed.

"Toph?"

The little earthbender kneed him in the ribs. "Don't even say it, Sparky. Yeah, the great Blind Bandit is afraid of lightning."

Zuko was quite for a moment. "Good instincts," he finally said.

A few moments later, he heard an "Um . . ." at the door. Teo and the Duke peeked around the frame.

"Come on," Zuko yawned, and the two did not need to be told twice. The Duke jumped to Zuko's other side, and Teo pulled himself up next to Toph.

Uncomfortable as the arrangement was, Zuko found himself hanging off the edge of sleep when he felt four tiny paws alight on his head, causing him to start awake. Momo jabbered his displeasure before settling again on the firebender's chest. Before lying back down, Zuko managed to catch a glimpse of a bald head leaning against the bedframe.

Another crash of thunder, and two more visitors arrived.

"We're just here to make sure everyone's ok," Sokka said, putting on a brave face before another flash of lightning illuminated the room, and he jumped back to cling to the doorframe.

"And you can just call me Fraulein," Zuko replied, suppressing a laugh.

"So long as you don't try to sing," Haru muttered, before curling up on the ground by the bed. Sokka slumped down in a corner, clinging to his sword.

It was amazing that Zuko ever got to sleep among the symphony of snoring, but before he drifted off, a thought came to his mind, no more than half-formed. _Isn't someone missing . . . ?_

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Firebenders rise with the sun, waterbenders with the moon. Zuko had lain awake ever since the sun's first light peered through the window, and was in for several uncomfortable hours of pretending to ignore the waterbender curled up at the foot of his bed.


	12. Music

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**28. Music**

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The Sound Chakra - Masquerade

_Masquerade, paper faces on parade, masquerade_

_Hide your face so the world will never find you . . ._

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The Lies we tell ourselves are the ones we ought to fear the most.

The lies we use to hide from ourselves, so that we do not have to face what our lives have made us.

The lies we use to hide the scars of our past, that only cause us bitter pain the moment they are stripped away.

The lies a people at war tell themselves : they are nothing like us.

Lies, and music, make us human, and all our lives we dance to the tune of them both.


	13. Mothers

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**_Spoiler Alert_**

For Boiling Rock Part 1 and 2, though if I told you, you wouldn't know, you'd just be like 'But how did he get there? Explain things if you're going to tell a story!'

**41. Mothers**

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"May I sit down?"

"Huh wha—?" It was not as if Toph was surprised, not by the man's presence(though it was still a little weird to have a real live adult hanging around). "Yeah, sure, whatever, Chief." Adults just messed with the system.

Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe was certainly more patient than his children were during his first forty-eight hours with Toph, but he was an adult, what could you expect? He still didn't know what to do about his new nickname, and that was no fun unless he sputtered and hissed and was forced to suppress all that anger like Zuko had been. Judging by his vibrations, Hakoda was simply mildly bamboozled, which was slightly more than confused.

"So what's on you're mind?" the earthbender said, sitting up while the chief took a seat on a nearby piece of rubble.

"I just wanted to talk. It seems like Katara and Sokka are always busy, and I wanted to get an idea of what life is like on the road for you kids."

"Oh, it's pretty terrible," Toph said, picking dirt from between her toes. "Sokka usually has a conniption if he goes more than one meal without meat. But we get by. It's just how we role."

"And you've been living here since the invasion." Hakoda was silent a moment. Toph felt maybe just a teensy bit awkward, having spoken to the chief alone never, but his vibrations were almost the same as Sokka's when he was coming up on an idea. Toph could wait it out. "How is Katara doing?"

And there was the catch. Parents were always a nightmare to be around, just on different levels. Zuko obviously won that contest with his 'Dad of the Year,' Papa Ozai, but Toph thought she could run a close second. Sokka and Katara had it lucky, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing.

Anything that pushed Sugarqueen's buttons. Anything.

"She's pretty much our mom. We've gotten into some pretty wicked fights over it, like this one time we got into a mud fight over her smothering Aang—" Oh, now his vibrations were priceless; there was nothing like giving someone a taste of overprotective parenting. "— and gambling and stuff like that, but, you know." Toph shrugged. "She gets meals on the table — she doesn't actually hunt, that's Zuko's job — and makes sure the boys brush their teeth and what not, but she's not the one to go to if you have any good ideas or if you want to do anything fun. That's Sokka."

"Typical indulgent father-figure?" Hakoda chuckled.

Toph laughed outloud, but for an entirely different reason.


	14. Fathers

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Last Chapter's warning still applies.

**42. Fathers**

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Eventually Toph caught her breath, though she still threatened to collapse into giggles at any moment. She coughed in what she assumed was a delicate manner, then continued, "Snoozles is like the wacky uncle. You've never met Iroh, have you? Zuko's uncle, make's the best tea. Anyways, if you want to follow the family metaphor, Zuko's definitely our dad. Observe." Toph drew in a deep breath, and shouted, "Hey, Sparky!!"

The entertainment during the intermission was Hakoda's suspicious vibrations, which only got worse as the prince jogged up. "What do you need?" he asked, hands on his knees and slightly winded from the jog.

"Carry me," Toph said, holding out her arms. Zuko rolled his eyes and turned around, and Toph instantly jumped up on his back. "See, wouldn't you do this for Katara if she was hurt?"

"Wait, what?"

"I wasn't talking to you, Sparky."

"You're not even hurt anymore."

"But you still owe me, and you're too much of a pushover to do anything about it anyways." Toph turned back to Hakoda, who was standing now. "See? And that's not his only trick; they're fights are priceless—"

"We don't fight all the time!"

"Right, only when you're around each other. But Katara still has you cooking and cleaning and doing dishes so she has more time to grill Aang on waterbending. Though I think you do more of the actual grilling."

Hakoda was silent a moment. "Breakfast this morning was you, wasn't it?"

Zuko looked up after letting Toph slide off his back, surprise affecting his good eye and giving his face an even more lopsided expression. "Yes, sir. I'm usually up first, anyways."

"Firebenders rise with the sun." The Water tribe chief nodded slowly. "I never did thank you properly for helping to rescue me." Hakoda put his palm to his fist and bowed in the water tribe manner. "Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, I am in your debt, for what you have done for me and for my children."

After a moment's hesitation, Zuko returned the bow. "I . . . you know . . . do what I can?" He offered an awkward smile, which Hakoda did not return. "I've got to get back to the laundry," he said, before escaping.

Hakoda nodded and walked off in another direction, to sulk, Toph expected. _Dads_.


	15. Disaster

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**So I wasn't going to post this until tomorrow, but I figured I'd better send a newsflash before I forgot.**

Dudes. You Rock.

Seriously, now. The review thing isn't happening so much as I would hope, but I'm getting like a bazillion hits on this story, and it's definitely going at a great rate compared to my others. I know it's just because I'm actually cranking out chapters (I'm working on the others! I swear I am!), but still. DUDES! Thanks for wasting so much time here being Avatarded with me.

Now on to the newsflash:

I switched the first and 12th chapters, so all you people, go back and read chapter one, because it's different. 12 is now 'Music.'

The following is a conversation between Koh, Yue, and Guru Pathik, before Aang fails at Chakras. Or it might be something else I'll use for 'Many Paths'(No, I haven't abandoned it.)

**75. Disaster**

_Young love is truly a disaster._ Spirits converse in a strange way — their voices are shadows, their words a shadow of a thought.

_That is how it begins — if it ends that way is up to the couple. __In reality, any love has the potential to be, and it certainly feels more heartbreaking than all the war and suffering in the world combined._

"It is hard to teach insignificance to a boy with the power to save the world or send it into darkness."

_Yet you must_. _This is expected of you. This is foretold. This is promised._"I will do what must be done."

_See to it._


	16. Alone

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**20. Alone**

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No one really seemed to understand the meaning of the word 'last.' 'Last' just sort of happened, a title among titles, and it wasn't really anything special. A lot of people were alone.

But no one was really alone like _he_ was alone, no one really knew the enormity of being 'last.' It just didn't happen. It should never happen.

Katara was the last waterbender in her tribe, but that didn't mean she was alone in it. She had family, friends, and the knowledge that there were waterbenders somewhere out there.

Sokka had been the last person to turn away from the troops left at the Fire Nation capital, but everyone could share his grief.

Toph was the last person to appreciate the enormity of the Western Air Temple, unable to 'see' it until her feet touched the stone, but she could experience it in ways that no one else could dream of.

Haru was the last person to go anywhere, because he was always busy pushing Teo up the steps, around the corners, through the narrower corridors, but he got great satisfaction from helping the boy.

Teo was last at everything - it took him longer and took more help to do anything because of his condition, but he had a family and a way to get to them.

The Duke was youngest – that made him last, but that made everyone dote on him.

And Zuko, he was the last to take up the cause, but his struggles to get there would make sure he stayed.

No one was really last like Aang was. In a group of last-place, shoot-for-the-bottom, low-end rookies, the Last Airbender was last in a way that was both noble and pitiable.

He had run away from being special, and he only managed to become special-er.

Whenever the thoughts struck him — a lot, staring around the Western Air Temple at the people, the activity — he would sink into despair. What a terrible burden it was to be alone!

Katara could shanghai Zuko into helping her with housecleaning, Sokka and Teo and the Duke could invent weapons and strategies to be used against the Fire Nation, and Toph could berate Haru on how much better her earthbending was than his(while he called her short; those put her off kilter).

No one was there to share the camaraderie of loneliness. No one could really feel how he felt.

But, looking around him again, he was glad. Last was a terrible burden to bear, and he would not wish it on anyone else.


	17. Challenges

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**25. Challenges**

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Also, I'm told it's normal, having failed once, to quit trying. Therefore, if you are persistent and determined, you should probably consider yourself abnormal or possibly obnoxious.

– Ben Goode

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There was an easy way and a hard way to do things, and a right way and a wrong way. Zuko had learned this when he was very little, and had learned just as quickly that right equated to hard and easy meant wrong. That was an iron-clad rule.

So how was he supposed to know that being away from home for years, tenaciously clinging to a hope that the world had given up on was wrong? That was hard, and it took a lot of strength. Normal people would have given up, but the skin around his left eye and his past actions proclaimed abnormality to the world.

Trying to figure out what was right and what was wrong was hard, so was doing that also good? Did doing things that were difficult over and over again make them easy and therefore wrong? Everything was hard about those three years chasing the Avatar, but apparently that was wrong, so what else that was hard was wrong?

Confronting his father and joining the Avatar was hard, but his heart had told him to do it, and he had gotten pretty good at following what his heart said instead of his brain, but apparently that, too, was wrong, so did that make everything else wrong.

One thing was certain.

Zuko had to be really bored to be even thinking of this. The thought had started off somewhat deep, but took a dive off the deep end from there. Or maybe it was just really too late to be involved in as dangerous a pastime as thinking, because really, none of it made any sense.

The meaning of life might have been hidden somewhere in Zuko's mind-vomit, but it was too much of a challenge to dig through it all.

And if Zuko wasn't going to do it, then it had to be bad.


	18. Endings

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**100. Endings -**

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_Cowboys ride into sunsets. The good guy always gets the girl._

At least, that was how it was supposed to work. In theory. But theories were troublesome things; no one really knew anything about the world, when it got right down to it.

People put their heart and soul into things all the time. They sacrificed their lives and dreams for things they thought were worth it.

_We all know the stories. We all know the fairy tales._

People sacrificed things all the time in the search for their happy endings. The war was won with blood and tears and loss of life, and sacrifice after fruitless sacrifice. Some despaired. Some gave up hope.

But some . . . .

_We all get the glory of making it for ourselves._

Once in a while, someone made it.

They had made it.

All of them.

It had been a close thing, though. With the comet approaching, they had forgotten that the greatest firebender was, in fact, the earth itself, though the signs had been apparent everywhere in the first invasion. No, this greatest of Firebenders had not waited for the Avatar to defeat the Fire Lord, but had brought the great man to his knees and brought his great palace down all around him.

Hundreds of years of Fire Nation history had gone up in smoke. Many people had died. Many people had survived, again against all odds.

"It's over," Aang said, tears pouring down his face. He rubbed his eyes, caught between laughing and crying. "It's really over!"

"You bet it is, Twinkletoes!" Toph shouted, jumping up in the air. When she came back down, the ground shook and a small crater appeared, the gang fighting for their balance, all of them laughing, all of them weeping.

Katara wrapped her arms around Aang, and Sokka wrapped his around both. Toph squeezed into the embrace, and was soon followed by Suki, and Teo, and the Duke, and Haru.

Zuko sighed, a small but contented smile tugging at his lips as he watched them. It was nice to see a family acting like a family . . . .

Katara put her head up from the group hug. "Get over here, Zuko!" Her tone left no room for argument.

"Yes, ma'am!"

Further away, her back to the ruins of what was once her home, Ursa chuckled softly, elegantly. "She has him very well trained, doesn't she?"

"That's my daughter," Hakoda said, tenderness mingled with just a little possessiveness that might have frightened away all the boys within a twelve-mile radius.

"Yes. And that's my son," Ursa replied. "And those are their friends. They've grown up so much." She turned to look at Hakoda, pride and love and greatest respect shining in her eyes and in the tears on her cheeks. "You must be very proud."

"I am. Sometimes I wish they could go back to being babies, toddlers, little things that used to think the world of me and their mother." Hakoda sighed. "But I'm glad I got to see that this is what they have become. I am very proud. It's all the happy ending I could ask for."


	19. Happiness

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**Spoilerish stuff ahead, if you care to know. Sokka meditates on one of Zuko's lines from The Boiling Rock Part 1.**

**9. Happiness - **

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_"I'm never happy._"

Well, obviously, that had been a lie, because Sokka seemed to recall several occasions which the Fire Prince exhibited some sign that could be generally translated to 'happy.' Just because he wasn't quite as flamboyant as other members of the party when it came to expressing emotion didn't mean he didn't experience it, right?

It was true Zuko had never seemed happy back in the day when he was chasing them all over the globe, not even when he succeeded in capturing Aang, but he was a little different now.

Pfft. Right. Zuko _now_ next to Zuko _then_ was like comparing a hog monkey to a badger-mole. Both were capable of being really very frightening in their rage, but hog-monkeys were mean and disgusting all the time. Badger-moles happened to have very good taste in music.

Ok, so maybe that wasn't the best comparison, but still. It was hard to reconcile Zuko carrying Toph around on his back with Zuko burning down Kyoshi Island. Zuko was scowling and angry and _almost completely bald_ when he was doing whatever he wanted, but that was definitely a smile on his face when he was following the orders of a bratty earthbender several years younger than him. It wasn't big or extremely noticeable, but it was a real, genuine smile.

And that wasn't the only time it happened, either. He smiled when he and Aang talked about Firebending(not during training; except when Aang did something right), he smiled whenever anyone complimented his tea or his cooking(which really wasn't half-bad), and he smiled when he told stories about his uncle.

But those smiles never did last very long. Maybe he caught a glimpse of Toph's feet, or maybe the scar on Aang's back, or Katara's glare whenever she tested the food(no poison, good). Maybe he remembered how his uncle got where he was.

Maybe it wasn't a lie, then. Zuko had a lot to be unhappy about, a lot more than they would ever likely find out. Still . . . .

Still. Letting the prince wallow in his misery whenever he had nothing to do would not get the Firelord defeated any faster. Thus . . . .

"Hey, Zuko!"

"I'm meditating."

"Meditate later! I haven't had a good spar in forever."


	20. Into the Flames

**I do not own. Please Review.**

You guys are so going to love this.

I was at Barns and Nobels(don't own), and I saw a deck of Tarot Cards that had a bunch of dragons on it. I love dragons, you have no idea how much I love dragons, and even though I'm not really into that occult stuff, I bought it right away.

Well, now I had a deck of Tarot Cards, an instruction booklet, and no idea what to do with it. I was bored, and I had just finished an AP Test. The First thing that came to my mind?

For those of you who guessed Avatar, you are CORRECT!!

So I decided to ask the deck how Book Three was going to play out. I just did a simple three card spread, nothing fancy. This is what I got, Left to Right: Judgement, The Magician, and Temperance.

Judgement's basic meaning is that things are going to wind down, and there's going to be a major change. Like, world-changing change.

The Magician has his hands on the items of the four suits of Tarot, representing the four elements and how they work together. They're actually the same elements as Avatar. He represents creativity and originality, and the instructions say he represents a good time for big undertakings. Like, We're never going to see the ending coming creative.

Temperance was supposed to represent the blending of past and present, or matter and spirit, 'leading to fruitfulness and prosperity.' There's a dragon in the background guarding the figure on the card, protecting life and prosperity.

I just sort of giggled. I mean, seriously!! I didn't stack the deck or anything, but don't you think that's just a little creepy and amazing?

In this story, I'm going to use a more complex set and work it into the plot, because Katara just loves her fortune tellers.

Also, I will describe the cards exactly as I have them.

And now, I give you the **_Super-long chapter of doom!!_** (You know, I didn't mean for a pun, but that one is pretty good).

**57. Into the Flames**

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"'Card Reading?'" Zuko leaned in to read the finer print on the sign that hung in front of a gypsy tent. "'Fortune Telling Fresh from the Occident.'"

"Wow, Zuko, it's nice to know you can read," Sokka muttered, leaning against a post. It instantly gave way under his weight, and he fell flat on his bum.

Zuko didn't seem to pay any attention, but was about to say something on just what he thought of most occult traditions, when a voice from behind cut him off.

"Fortune telling?! _For real?!_"

"And now you've done it," Sokka said.

"Done what?!"

"Sokka, did you hear?! Fortune telling!! You remember Aunt Wu, don't you?!" Katara was literally beaming, prepared to drag her brother and the fire prince into the tent.

"Aunt who?"

"No, no, Aunt _Wu,_" Sokka explained. "Some cranky fortune teller we met in a village, predicted my life would be full of self-inflicted anguish or something like that."

"She was right, though, Sokka," Katara replied.

"But not about the volcano! If the villagers had listened to her, they all would have burned to death and the village would have been destroyed!"

"But the village wasn't destroyed, we saved it!"

"That's not the point, the point is—"

"You said a fortune teller near a volcano, right?" Zuko said, cutting into the sibling's argument.

"Yeah . . . ."

"I think I remember meeting her, actually." Zuko made a face. "I think she was hitting on my uncle."

Sokka laughed so hard he fell over, but Katara narrowed her eyes. "When was this?"

"Well, um . . . you remember that time I sent that one bounty hunter after you guys?"

"Which time?"

"Jun. The one with the shirshu. We followed your scent through a village, and some old lady offered to tell my uncle his fortune."

"What?" Sokka said. "No, 'You're not going to capture the Avatar," he continued, switching to his spooky voice, and doing the 'Sokka prediction dance' to go with it.

Zuko only glared at Sokka for a moment, then turned back to the sign. "Fortune telling is a waste of time."

"Oh, great, we have two non-believers now? Zuko, I could understand, because there really couldn't be much to see in his future, but Sokka—"

"There is always much to see." The three teenagers turned to the voice, and instead of a crinkly old hag, its source was a young merchant sailor. He was dressed in loose linen, a bright red sash around his waist and a green bandana in his hair, which was braided and set with beads. Gold hoop earrings hung from his ears, and he was smoking a thin cork pipe. "One need only have the courage to look. Judging by you lot, though, I'd say not."

"Well, I'd say yes!"

"That was really hokey, Katara."

"Shut up, Sokka, and get in—" But the water-tribe boy already had the good sense to run off. Katara turned her eyes to Zuko. "You'll have to do. Come on!"

The three were eventually seated at a table in the bright red tent, tinted light coming through from the afternoon sun. The noise of the market was dimmed all around them, as the fortune teller explained the rules of Tarot.

"There are seventy-eight cards in a deck," the sailor explained, leaning back in his chair with his boots on the table. "Fifty-six minor arcana cards, each of which represent one of the four elements, and twenty-two major arcana cards, which are represented by people. I can do several different readings, ranging from basic to most complex, for anything from past and future events to what you should do each day of the week. Now, you can't use anything you use here as proof in legal proceedings, and the future isn't exactly written in stone, so be careful with your predictions.

"Also, I just interpret the cards, so don't shoot the messenger. There may be other ways to read them, so feel free to take them as you wish.

"Now, what would you like me to read for?"

"Um . . . ." _Can't give anything away_, Katara thought, leaning her elbows on the table. "I just want to know the future."

"Don't we all?" the sailor laughed. "That's still awfully broad. Do you have anything more specific?"

"Are we going to win?"

Katara and the sailor looked at Zuko, his amber eyes as hard as ice.

It took Katara only a moment to berate him. "That's the best you could think of? I'd sort of like to know the hows and whys!"

"But the yes or no is all we need!"

"Ok, you two are messing with my Zen, so how about this," the sailor suggested. "I'll do an Ouroboros for Sparky with the major arcana, and a ten-card spread with the whole deck for the lady. Does that sound like a deal?"

"That sounds fine."

"How much will we have to pay?"

The sailor sighed as the girl smacked Scarface over the head. "I don't charge. You can leave a donation if you want, but I don't really need it."

"Then we accept."

The sailor nodded. "Then I'll begin with the Ouroboros." He began shuffling the deck, repeating the question in his mind:_ Are these two shmucks going to win? Are these two shmucks going to win? Are these two shmucks going to win?_

"The Ouroboros is a dragon that is said to encircle the earth, devouring its own tail," the sailor began, placing the cards in a loose spiral. He pointed to the card on the outermost edge, the end. "This is the first of seven cards, tail to head," he said, tracing over the cards to the origin at the seventh. "It shows the experiences that have influenced your personalities." He flipped it over to face-up, to show a woman in blue wrestling a red dragon. "Strength. The female subdues the dragon, humanity tames its most basic urges and makes them serve a higher purpose. She does not kill, only tames, and in doing so gains his respect. Their combined powers are invincible.

"You confront problems head on, and overcome them through sheer force of will. You have perseverance, courage, and determination, but also intelligence and modesty. Between the two of you that sounds about right. These qualities will inspire others.

"The next card is the recent past, and tells us of the events that have shaped your situation at hand." He flipped this card over, revealing an old man, cloaked in dragon skin and carrying a lantern. "The Hermit. You have looked within yourself and found the source of your inner turmoil, and from this you have determined your path. But be cautious, this card is a warning. Do not rush. Seek the truth behind truth. Does this sound right so far?"

Zuko stared down at the cards, his mind in the blank place he found in his meditation. This was so close . . . . "It is," he said, nodding.

"Very good. The third card represents current events that color the way you see the world." The sailor flipped the card. On this was a man, suspended upside-down over an abyss and held only by the tongue of a dragon. "The Hanged man. He is not so ominous as he appears, enjoying his very original world-view. It may give him insight to the troubles at hand. Be patient, for what you see as a waste of time might give you the insight you will need at whatever is was you had to win.

"The fourth card shows your immediate obstacles." The third card was flipped over to reveal three animals clinging to a wheel. At the top was a cockatrice holding a sword. "The Wheel of Fortune. It seems you are at the mercy of fate, a place no man wants to be but this turn means good luck. You have friends and allies you may have forgotten or discounted, and fate is on your side, for now. Be wary of conceit, and know that good luck never lasts, for fate is a fickle mistress.

"The fifth card shows the likely course of events in the short term." The sailor flipped this card over, and his eyes widened. "Now there is a lucky turn. The World." This card was the Ouroboros, surrounding the world and consuming his tail, flanked by four dragons, each representing the four elements. "Success. Resolution. You will have completed your task. You have labored long without reprieve, and now you may have fulfillment.

"The next card represents your relationship with the world around you, and how it is affected by the choices you make." He flipped this card over. "The Sun. Your world will have order and life. Peace will allow for many beautiful things that were forgotten to flourish. You will be at peace with your world. For you, this will be a new beginning. Follow the previous card's advice and enjoy life. The world has many good things to offer."

The tent was silent for a moment as the sailor surveyed the cards. This was the luckiest reading he had seen in a long time, and the world around him was forgotten as he reviewed their meanings. Perhaps he had missed something . . . . "You seem to have many good things ahead of you. Your future is bright, but the last card will tell us if it lasts. Do you wish to continue?"

"I've come this far."

The Sailor looked up at the boy. He did seem frightened that all the good would fall to ruin, but he did not seem as though he would burn the tent down around their ears if it did . . . so he flipped over the last card, revealing a blindfolded woman dressed in black. In one hand she held a set of scales, in the other, a sword. "Justice. You will have to face it one day. You may have done something in your past that you are not proud of, but the position of this card suggests a happy outcome."

The sailor leaned back in his chain. "Wowza. I'd like to know what you are wanting to win at, so I can bet on you. This is a very favorable reading. You've got some good karma." He looked up at the girl, staring at the cards in awe. "Would you still like that second reading?"

"Um," she said, her voice small, "I think that will be enough. Thank you."

The sailor shrugged. "Suit yourself. And fortune go with you!" The girl nodded, smiling, having to half-lead the awestruck boy from the tent. "Lucky Shmuck."

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**A/N.** When I got that reading, I wasn't quite sure what to think. Yeah, Zuko is a dumb, lucky shmuck! For real, those were the cards, interpret them how you will. I have to go mow the lawn now, so I don't see anything real lucky in _my_ future.


	21. Beginning

**I do not own, this or Casablanca. Please Review.**

You get two updates today, but the other is in Herbs and Stewed Plot Bunnies, go read it.

So. I've been watching Casablanca. Pretty amazing movie. I have to say, I'm a Humphrey Bogart fangirl now.

But that wasn't what I was going to say. He said a line, or the other supporting male lead said a line that made me want to scream several things about Avatar and shipping.

Then again, Bogart didn't say what I got all fangirlish over. Still, look!

"I know a good deal more about you than you suspect. I know, for instance, that you're in love with a woman. It is perhaps a strange circumstance that we both should be in love with the same woman."

Then . . .

"You sound like a man of strength who has convnced himself of something he doesn't believe in his heart."

Ya.

Now, what I have written here, is the beginning of a loosely allied series of fics about Lu Ten, the minorest of the minor characters.

_**It is time for me to take a stand!! I get so tired of everyone treating Lu Ten as a prop!! Minor Characters have rights, too!!**_

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**1. Beginning **

"I'm sure you've heard my new decree that all recruits must take a course of basic first aid."

"Yeah."

Lu Ten was a privileged child. As the only son of Iroh, heir apparent to the throne of the Fire Nation, he was doted on by his father, his aunt, his grandfather, and every member of the royal court.

Seventeen years old, and in line to rule the world, yeah, life was pretty good. Well, yeah, his dad was always gone, off conquering the world now that Lu Ten was in school, but still. They saw each other enough.

The Prince took the chopsticks out of his mouth, the ends chewed to oblivion. "But that doesn't really affect me. I'm not a recruit."

"But you will become one, on your eighteenth birthday," the old Fire Lord said, trying to ignore his grandson's behavior as the prince pointedly ignored all mentions of what would come after, choosing instead to make faces at his baby cousin.

Fire Lord Azulon cleared his throat, and Lu Ten pulled the chopsticks out of his nose. "I mean, it doesn't really affect me, does it?," the prince asked. "Can't you just pull some of your awesome voodoo magic and — I'm shutting up now." The plain white rice looked suddenly very appetizing.

"How any heir of mine could be so afraid of blood is beyond me," the old Fire Lord wheezed.

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"I do not doubt Lu Ten's skill, but asking any of these boys to pay attention in the classroom they've so recently escaped is beyond their capacity."

"Perhaps you are right," Azulon said to his youngest son, "if they were to have the wrong teacher. As things stand, I think I have found a way to make sure they show up in class, if not pay whole-hearted attention."

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"The worst part—" Laughter erupted from the women's dormitories at the Fire Nation Academy of Medicine. "The worst part is, the only people who were chosen to teach first aid to the army regulars were all young women, twenty or younger. Some such thing about getting the boys to pay attention in class!"

"Chauvinistic rooster-pigs."

"Hear, hear!"

The girls settled down, banging their cups of moonpeach juice, some spiked, some not, on the tiled floor.

"Yeah, but you can't deny the Fire Lord knew what he was talking about," said another. "I mean, honestly, Kyoko, would you expect anything less? We use what tools we must."

"Yeah, like peroxide and all that weird water-tribe voodoo you studied last year," Kyoko replied. "You don't seem too upset about your classes being interrupted, Lin."

Lin smiled enigmatically, staring at the juice swishing around in her cup. "It's because I don't have to spend my days with a bunch of rubes. I'm teaching the officer classes."

As the chorus of 'lucky bitch!' died down, Kyoko put in, "It's only because you're apprenticed to what's-his-name, that big time palace-healer. Just remember, men will be men, and men are rooster-pigs."

"I'll keep it in mind."

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Hits at 1776!! _**Dude!!**_


	22. Silence

**I do not own. Please Review.**

So I'm a little out of it now. I'm a writer in the middle of a crisis.

For all the stuff I put out about OzaiTree(That really is my pairing, dude), I'm a Zutarian at heart. I know some of my readers aren't. Maybe more than some. It's so weird, because I have no idea, and now I feel bad for it.

The only reason you're not seeing more of it, is because I'm completely incapable of writing romance-ish stuff. I may have a few Zutara flavored things littered throughout my work, but I just can't write it like I want to.

Case and point, an idea I had for a Zutara fic turned into a ZukoAang Slash chapter in **_Of Herbs and Stewed Plot Bunnies,_** which was more humor than anything.

It isn't just Zutara - I can't write any romance. At all. I need a tutorial or something. Anyone who's found a good one, feel free to tell me about it, because it is one of my major failings as a writer. I really can't write romance.

But I'm going to try. Probably fail miserably the first few times, and not post anything of the sort until I do get it down, but I'll duely warn those of you who don't want to see it.

I just needed to get that out there - it isn't like this is shipping or anything. Romance isn't funny or very interesting. It's too personal, unless it's well-written.

**24. Silence**

Zuko wasn't really one for talk. He tried, yeah, but he was so obviously uncomfortable with it, and it felt hollow on the ears.

Unnatural.

Of course, Katara thought, there were a lot of things that were unnatural about Zuko being part of the Avatar's posse, like Aang knowing firebending, and Sokka having a sparing partner, and Toph having someone carry her around everywhere treating her like royalty.

Then, there was also that whole 'not fighting him on sight' thing that Katara was whole-heartedly prepared to cast aside if he so much as made one slip.

But he never did.

He cooked, he cleaned, he taught Aang firebending, he helped out around the Air Temple in any way he could. He was never boisterous or very upbeat, but his words went further when he said fewer. He could say 'good job' in a gesture, tell someone to keep trying without a word. It was impossible not to read into his every word and action, because each one was part of a separate language he had created, for whatever reason.

Maybe he didn't like to talk. Maybe he wasn't good with words.

Zuko was really bad at talking, but his silence meant more.


	23. Strangers

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I do not own. Please Review.

Really, Lu Ten is the best extremely minor character ever, and he's back.

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**60. Strangers**

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The damp mass of tissue splashed on the iron tray as the instructor removed it from the bag.

"This is the heart of a twenty-one year old soldier much like yourselves," the woman said, holding up the tray for all to see.

"Probably one of her former students."

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**_That was how Lu Ten met the Devil and found that he was, in fact, a woman._**

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"Does anyone want to take a stab at what he died from?"

"Someone ripped his heart out of his chest."

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**_That was how Lu Ten, Prince of the Fire Nation, got his very first detention._**

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"May I ask you something?"

The instructor, still nameless, but often called Mrs. Koh, looked up from the papers arrayed across her desk. "Ask away."

"It isn't about class."

"You've been here for more than a month. I don't think we're exactly strangers."

"Have you ever been in any battles?"

Lu Ten watched as she sighed through clenched teeth, picking at her dried lips in thought. It may have been overstepping the bounds of common courtesy, but all the other students had left.

"Yes," she replied after some thought. "I have. I served under your father during the East Quarter Rebellion."

"Then you know who I am."

"Yes."

"And you know I really don't like blood."

"We aren't going to be doing any more dissections." The instructor sighed. "Do you eat meat, your Highness?"

"Yeah, but never rare! I told you, I can't stand—"

"One of these days I'm going to re-introduce myself to the Fire Lord and petition him to bring you on a tour of a meat-packing plant. He and I are close acquaintances, you see. I helped deliver two of his grandchildren."

"You wouldn't dare—"

"Watch me."

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**_That was how Lu Ten gained himself an enemy._**

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"Ah, Lin, it has been several weeks since you have come. I was beginning to worry about you."

"I'm flattered, Fire Lord Azulon." Lin could not exactly bow, taking his pulse and doing the math for his blood pressure (all in her head; the new apprentice would be taking the notes as she called out the numbers). "My lord, I have done everything I can, but if you keep counter-acting my orders to the kitchens, your blood pressure will continue to rise."

"I never countered any of your orders, dear. I'm perfectly capable of cooking for myself."

Lin looked up, the corner of her mouth bent up in a tiny smirk. The image of the dour old ruler sitting by the fire pit in his room and watching a steak roast, or frying some kimodo-chicken breast in the wall of flames in the throne room was too comical to ignore. "It isn't dangerous, _yet_. But it will catch up to you, my lord. All things in moderation."

"It will have to run fast."

"I'm sure, sir. Do you still run?"

"Every day, though I'm not as spry as I use to be."

"Every bit counts." Lin ran through the check-up, probably the only person in the Fire Nation, besides her master, to know what the inside of the Fire Lord's nose looked like. Perfectly healthy, no swollen sinuses. Good. "Actually, my Lord, I did have a request. May I assume that you knew your grandson was one of my students?"

"Don't tell me he was giving you any trouble."

"He was the perfect student, very intelligent and gentlemanly, despite the rest of the class—"

"I shall want their names."

"Of course, sir." Score. "But I couldn't help but notice your grandson's distaste for blood."

"You're a smart girl, Lin. I know you wouldn't bring this up unless you had a suggestion. What is it?"

"I would beg my Lord to let me bring him on a tour of the hospital where I work. Many veterans go through there, as well as people wounded in industrial accidents. Perhaps that would at least weaken his phobia."

"Perhaps."

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**_And that was how the enemy worked her way into his life._**

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"I really can't believe you, and I hope you know, this means war."

"Too bad you're not my student anymore. And you can't really hate me, because you don't even know my name."

"Xu Lin, world-renown healer by the age of Seventeen. I think I get the picture."

"Then, your highness, all I have to say is _bring it._"


	24. Blind

****

I do not own.

So, the more I got to writing Azulon, the more I got to liking him. But just because this is much much later on the time line doesn't mean the Lu Ten Saga is over! Quite the contrary, he's really taken over the fic. So expect to see more of him, though I won't abandon everyone else. The roles are just going to be switched for a little bit, see how they like it! _Nyah!_

**Edit**: Ok, so I really feel stupid for not catching this earlier. Azulon alludes to something called the threads of fate. I don't own those, either. That's a Wren Sharpbeak idea that I'm pretty sure I picked up from her. Go read her stories. _**NOW.**_

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_**47. Blind**_

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Fire Lord Azulon could have easily proclaimed that all the world was blind. He would have made it nice and official, would have payed the best scribe in the Fire Nation to write down his enigmatic and world-changing words.

But he was dead, so it didn't really matter.

Except, it did. You see, dead was a far cry from asleep, which is what Azulon had been when he died.

Now he was quite awake, and quite irate. He had spent the past few years lobbying with the past Avatars to be reincarnated with his memories so that he could go and make the world all nice and pretty and his again, ordered so that it would work. If he had been alive in some form or other, the past few years of suffering and disunity his family had been subjected to could have been averted.

But no, everyone had to be stupid and not follow the number one rule in the world : "There are two kinds of people; those who agree with me, and idiots."

The youngest of his children was definitely a member of the latter tribe. Azulon had never really like the boy, but being of his own body, he had thought the boy (ok, so he was in his late thirties) had at least a decent head on his shoulders.

How very wrong he was. Oh, the boy got points for being sly and thinking on his feet and doing absolutely anything to get what he wanted _in the short term_, but he obviously couldn't think past next Tuesday.

Stupid, stupid boy. There was a reason Iroh was supposed to be his heir, and given a few years maturation, Lu Ten would have been impressive, as well. As things stood, Lu Ten was dead and Iroh had the good sense to disappear for a while, disappear and receive new orders.

Being dead did not necessarily change filial devotion. Ozai still hated him on the inside, and Iroh thought he was the bees knees. It's hard on a parent when their children move away from them, but Iroh, at least, had become something impressive.

Which was why Azulon was very glad to see him when he first visited spirit world.

"I would almost say your son is enjoying this experience," Azulon said dryly, moving a piece on the Pai sho board in front of him. "The first words out of his mouth were 'Hey, granpappy, how's it been?! Oh, and guess what, we can't use firebending here!'"

Iroh laughed weakly, rubbing his eyes. "What . . . what are you doing here?"

"I'm certain you've heard the phrase, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' Your sister in law was a woman scorned."

Iroh blanched. "What happened?"

"Well, it appears you've been usurped. Ursa misinterpreted my words and Ozai conveniently did the same for my last will and testament. Some such thing about me being senile and wanting to kill Zuko!"

"What did you say?"

"He was giving me trouble about being my heir again; the boy never quits! And he thinks himself impressive with his pretty little demon-spawn daughter, calls her a prodigy, but he can't see that she'll run out of steam in her twenties, if she gets that far. Both of them want far too much, and I was trying to avoid putting them anywhere near the throne."

"Where does Zuko come into this?"

"I knew the little royal brats were listening. I didn't want them throwing any fits, so I gave Ozai the general gist of it. 'You must know the pain of losing your only son,' I think I said. I was going to turn Zuko over to you."

"But my sister in law took that to mean you were going to kill him."

"I would do just about anything to avoid handing this country over to Ozai, but not that." Azulon sighed. "Stupid, stupid boy."

"I'll agree for your sake, father."

"Oh, I know I should have just said it. I thought Azula would be discreet about it, but she has a frightening sadistic streak in her. That must have been how Ursa heard. She spoils Zuko, and Ozai suppresses him. He would have been better off with you."

"What would you have me do now?"

"Go back to the realm of the living, and join us only when your time has come. Someone has to make sure my other son doesn't completely ruin the world or the best thing that's happened to it since . . . ." Azulon paused and looked at his son, long and hard. "I may be dead, but that doesn't mean I can't learn. I have seen the threads of fate. You must take good care of that boy, my son. Make sure he _sees_."

"I will, father." Iroh stood and bowed. "Please look after my own."

"There are only so many things that can happen to you once you are dead," Azulon replied, but one look at his son's tortured face made him add, "I'll make sure he doesn't talk to any strange face-stealers."

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Writing him, and then rereading what I've written, I'm starting to see just how he and Zuko are related.

**Please Review!**


	25. Water

**I do not own. Please Review.**

**16. Water**

Water can be a truly fearsome element, calm and serene one moment and the next giving birth to storms, storms that drown the earth and choke the bays and break the ships and smash the shore.

But Water is a giver of Life.

A woman of the water tribe had lived a full life, if not long. She spent it giving life to two children, to her family, to her home which was more than skin walls and fire and the smell of cooking meat. It was the warmth of achievement against the frozen ice, it was a lullaby of waves and song. _That_ was home. _That_ was life.

And when it came time to give that last, rattling breath, she gave it for the sake of life.

But water flows, must always flow, and so she was not truly gone, only sleeping in a still pool while the world around her moved.

She was energy, and she would ensure the flow.


	26. Earth

**I do not own.**

I just wrote the end of the Lu Ten Saga. You won't be seeing it for a while, but I'm sort of floating around in this hazy thing called depression.

But on a lighter note, _**The World According to Martial**_ has reached 4030 hits! Thanks to everyone who read, and everyone who took the time to review!

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17. Earth

They were born of different nations to a single heart. In such a game of restless souls and broken promises and stolen kisses, they could not help but be stubborn. They could not help but be rooted.

They could not help but be mountains jutting up suddenly from a sea of grass.

They were different. They were strong. They were ready. No man or woman could stop the turning of the earth or the power of a landslide or the sheer devastation of a quake, just as none could stand between their love. The world was theirs to move at will, and it could not stand between. Nothing could.

Nothing save Death, destroyer of worlds.

But in the end, all things must die and return to the earth which gave them life. The woman built a city while the man lay in his tomb, and when she went to join him they left behind more than just a city and a story.

They were the foundation of all life that came after.

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_**Please Review.**_


	27. Fire

**I do not own.**

I agonized over this chapter. I'll relate back to it with the Lu Ten saga at some point.

**18. Fire**

People say that Fire and Water are so different, but that isn't true.

Fire flows and breaths and makes and without it life would simply not be. The minerals only made the amino acids because something around them was hot enough to bind them together. The amino acids made the bacteria because they were hot enough. The great descendent of the bacteria, humankind, only survived ice and snow for that tiny, flickering flame.

For those of you with different creeds, look to fire, look to lightning, find where it has given life.

Because it has.

And fire continues to give, just as it destroys. A heart is stopped from smoke inhalation. It is started with the electric shock that started the blaze. Fire giveth. Fire taketh away. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Fire has taken.

It is its turn to _give_.

Fire will see the cycle complete.

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Please review! And if you find my brain, please upload it and send it back to me in a PM.


	28. Air

**I do not own.**

Guess what Storm doesn't have today . . . SCHOOL!! NO EXAMS, ALL WRITING, ALL DAY!! WOOHOO!!

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**19. Air**

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Now what has Air left to give besides its last forsaken son? He has been given the elements, now it is time for him to use them all.

Air is freedom, but now it must bind. Its words are a whisper, and it, like every other element, is capable of destruction; uprooting trees, lifting houses, throwing buildings miles away.

Destroying.

Killing.

All in an instant.

But now is a time for its greater impact, its ever-lasting power.

A Power one-hundred years in the making waits, waits, wishes and waits for its chance to prove itself. The world continues to turn. The sands will grind the stone to sand and carry it away again. The power of the wind can lay mountains so low there is no hope of them rising ever again.

That power is waiting. That power is wanting.

That power, with the others, will drive the darkness down for another to rise.

The Air knows there must always be balance.

**Trivia of the day: does anyone know who Martial is?**


	29. Childhood

**I do not own.**

Woah, stop right there, this is a milestone! Chapter thirty. I know I didn't even mention chapter 25, but come on, everyone mentions 25.

I gotta do something else.

So Woohoo! Chapter 30!!

**59. Childhood**

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What the world needs is a hero. What it is getting is human, and woefully young.

Optimism and innocence . . . that's what heros are supposed to give and inspire, sacrificing those things in themselves.

Those are adult shoes given to children.

Selfishness. People call children selfish, when they won't even give up those things for themselves to save their own world. As long as those things never touch them, things like a childhood lost and the weight of the world placed on shoulders still thin from boyhood, as long as those things never touch them, then all a hero is, all a hero will become, is a tool.

"_I want my children to grow up in a world without war._"

Then make it without war. Do it _yourself._

Don't sacrifice what is theirs, what they can't get back.

Childhood. Time.

You can't press rewind.

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**But you can press the review button.**


	30. Hate

**I do not own.**

Too much of what I should be doing in a row is going to have a negative impact on my brain. This is a continuation of sorts of 'Happiness.'

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****

3. Hate

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The first impression is always a hard one to get over.

Suki watched as Sokka and Zuko sparred, both comfortable enough in their skill to fight with live steel. It was not unwarranted, either. Sokka had barely been able to call himself a warrior when they had first met, and he was still lacking any sort of martial direction when she had met him on the road to Ba Sing Se, but he had improved drastically in the months since then.

As for Zuko . . . Suki had only ever seen him fight once, had only ever seen him that once when he was still the bad guy, still trying to capture Aang. When he had burned down her village. He had used firebending then, and Suki honestly did not expect bending royalty to be at all concerned with any other form of martial arts. On the other side of that coin, Suki could understand it: his sister had been twice as ruthless, twice as perfect, twice as brutal with her firebending. Azula was a prodigy, and Zuko had to compensate for that.

Sokka had told her everything that had happened, but he was decidedly vague on a couple points of Zuko's involvement in Ba Sing Se. Suki had let the matter slide (_then_), because the Prince was right there, piloting the balloon, checking for pursuit, keeping them safely ahead of whatever Azula would be sending after them.

Katara had been more willing to talk, though she and Toph had gotten into an argument over the finer points of the story: yes, Zuko had betrayed them in Ba Sing Se, but was he worth trusting now? Toph had been more directly affected by Zuko's actions, but she was convinced of the firebender's sincerity. Zuko had never even touched Katara in the last battle (all accounts indicated that Katara would have had him beat) but she held a deeper grudge than anyone.

The views on the wayward prince were still too varied for Suki to get any real picture of his character, so she would have to do as she had always done: make one for herself.

"You boys finished yet?"

The sound of steel on steel continued only a moment longer. "Ow!! That was a cheap shot!"

"You should learn the difference between a cheap shot and a distraction."

"Suki's not a—"

The Kyoshi warrior smacked her forehead. "You're both wrong. The only difference between a cheap shot and a distraction is the point of view, but Sokka, please be more careful. It's barely even a scratch."

"Fine." Sokka recovered from sulking after a moment. "What did you need?"

"I want to spar," Suki chuckled. The Water Tribe boy was always that way, his mind always on others when it wasn't on his stomach. Sokka nodded and took a fighting stance. Suki chuckled again. "I meant with Zuko."

"What? Why?! Nope, wait, I got it." Sokka leaned in to whisper, "You distract him while I come in from behind and—"

"That is a cheap shot," Zuko said, "and I can still hear you."

"I just want to fight him, Sokka." Suki tried to give him a reassuring smile. She didn't really want to mean any harm by it, but a part of her . . . did.

"If this is about—"

"It's not."

"Then whatever. You don't need my permission."

"What? You mean you're not being overbearing and possessive?"

"I'm not— Whatever. Just go play with your fans."

I was planning on doing more for this, but then I dropped it for a while and when I came back to it I forgot what I had planned.


	31. Family

**I do not own.**

Guess what I just finished today. For those of you who guessed school, you get a bonus chapter today.

I need to really thank Liooness for the Lu Ten Saga, and all the recurring romantic themes you've been seeing recently.

She's been so helpful in understanding the maelstrom that is human emotion, and with various anatomical terms that I use with Lin.

I'm still sort of floundering around in Lu Ten's point of view because I still don't entirely get it. This isn't the best chapter (that would be the very last Lu Ten Chapter, my person opinion)

So yes. Writers can't do all this alone. We need lots of help — and encouragement! So leave a review, help feed our muses!

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**_14. Family_**

The Quickest way to a man's heart is through his ribcage. Don't be afraid to go for the throat.

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The First battle in the ongoing war between Prince Lu Ten and Healer Xu Lin was being waged.

There were no rules, per se, but the prince was certainly winning. Lin had gotten up early to make this normally unnecessary side-trip to the caldera, and was certain she would be on time for her shift at the hospital.

It seemed that would not be the case.

Lu Ten had not taken into account the time, and had tripped and stumbled through his morning routine after a servant had come in and told him that Lin was waiting. He was still half asleep during the carriage ride to the city proper, which was the reason he was not prepared for the first defeat in his little war directly following the first victory(a fluke of fate, nothing more).

"So." Always, always be wary of a woman who starts a sentence with 'so.' "That cousin of yours is quite a character."

"Which one?" Lu Ten replied sleepily.

"Both of them are adorable," Lin replied, "but Princess Azula seems to have a thing for nicknames, _Lulu_."


	32. Food

**I do not own.**

Liooness has been helping me a lot with this chapter and others like it, so thank her for the continuation of the Lu Ten Saga!

And another thing: For those of you of the Zutara inclination, go read '100 Theme Challenge' by TheRedPenofDoom87. You know the style, one shots of the life and times of Zuko and Katara. Personally, my favorite chapter was chapter 9, but you should go read all of it.

Now for some not Zutara, with possible not Zutara themes. You get a double helping of Lu Ten and his phobias today.

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**_Food _**

"Hey, that's the bell for my break. Lunch is on me."

"I'm really not sure I want to eat it. . . ."

Lu Ten had shadowed the Healer Lin through the hospital all day, part of him wanting to pass out just to get out of there. It wasn't that there was an abundance of blood, but it smelled like the doctors and nurses and healers were all trying to cover up the smell of death with panda-lilies. In a way, it smelled worse than the preservatives used in the dissected animals.

"Maybe your right, but you do need to eat, because we're going on a health inspection on the other side of the city and we're going to be there all day."

"It isn't a gross inspection, is it?"

"The facilities owned by Chen Sho have always received an excellent rating."

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That was when Lu Ten learned to never not get a straight answer from a woman. Excellent condition in a meat-packing plant meant disgusting in the real world.

They met a health inspector at the doors, and began examining the hippo-cows, to make sure they were all healthy. Finally, they stopped in front of a stall.

"This one," the inspector said to a muscle man holding a hammer.

Lin's only warning was, "Lu Ten, close you're eyes."

"Why—"

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"That's gross and inhumane! Why do you have to do it that way?! Couldn't you just . . . gas them or something?"

"It would contaminate the meat, Prince," the inspector said, while Lin helped him drag the carcass outside.

"And have you ever seen anyone sacrifice any of these?" Lin continued. "It's usually a lot messier. This is the quickest way to slaughter the animal without affecting the meat, and what we need to see to make sure it's healthy."

"It's still gross."

"Take it up with your esteemed grandfather, _Lulu_."

"I can ask him to order you never to say that again."

Lin and the inspector began organizing their knives and surgical equipment. "And ten silvers says Princess Ursa thinks its cute, and the Fire Lord allows it."

"Are you trying to undermine my authority?"

"You're still a prince, and a recruit, and you're not overseeing this inspection. What authority do you have? Now shut your mouth, this is going to smell real bad in a minute."

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The hippo-cow intestines did, in fact, smell worse than anything the Prince of the Fire Nation had ever smelled.

"If all this goes into making food, why does anyone eat it?!"

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**Actually, reading The Jungle helped a lot, too. Upton Sinclair described how to slaughter cows in the manner that the Industrialized Fire Nation probably would in graphic detail. I couldn't look at bacon or beef the same way for weeks. And then what they do with the leftovers!! The Industrial Revolution was not all it was cranked up to be, but it still ushered in the modern age. I wish Mike and Bryan went into the industrial pros and cons of it, because it is just so interesting!**

Oh. And review. (about the industrial revolution!!)


	33. Ancestors

**I do not own.**

As an added bonus, you get some good olde fashioned male bonding to the tune of 'Anything Goes,' most amazing musical of all time.

Some minor spoilers for that spoiler thing they released at NYCC.

****

88. Ancestors

Something should be said for the honored ancestors. They have had their effect on the world, and not all of it has to be serious.

_But, oh, my. . . . _

"Times have changed."

__

And we've often rewound the clock

Since the Puritans got a shock

"It's just a little weird, you know? I grew up in a place where people covered up everything, but here . . . wowza."

"That was out of necessity. There's no need to freeze off the interesting bits and things for the sake of—"

"Sandwiches."

"Yeah, that."

__

In olden days a glimpse of stocking

was looked on as something shocking

But now God knows

Anything Goes

"My ancestors would have thrown a fit."

"Hasn't your dad, yet?"

"He hasn't seen Katara's new get-up."

__

Good authors, too, who once knew better words

Now only use four letter words writing prose

Anything Goes

"But seriously," Sokka continued. "No offense, man, but your nation is _weird_. That play was just plain funky."

"This from the guy who managed to get himself thrown out of a Haiku reading."

"Who told you about that?!"

"Toph said I ought to know who I was dealing with."

"You spent how many days with me in a prison—"

"Apparently that's different from shopping."

"Touche." They were silent for a while longer. "But seriously, this place is _weird_."

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Forgive me while I party. My name is no longer Mudd, and we have brought down a great (but terrible) plagarizer, whose name shall be stricken from memory (but not te lesson learned, I hope).


	34. Rule Breaking

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**

I do not own.

I think, by now, all of you know what I think of Lu Ten. This isn't part of the ongoing Lu Ten Saga, but still.

_**Lu Ten pwns all! (Unya, u bet im 133t.** pained laugh**)**_

Oh, and_** 'The World According to Martial'**_ Officially passed_** 'Of Herbs and Stewed Plot Bunnies'**_ in number of hits, and you need a scroll-y bar thing to view all the chapters in the drop-down list. Woohoo!

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**82. Rule-Breaking**

As a child, Lu Ten didn't have a lot going for him when it came to friends. Guards and studies and practice, practice, practice took up most of his time, though whenever his dad was around, he could usually skip lessons without getting into too much trouble.

He learned all the secret ways in and out of the palace, the ways no one could have possibly known about, covered in dust and cobwebs and usually home to some strange critters.

But secret tunnels, those were only so fun to explore alone. Which was why Lu Ten had been ecstatic when Zuko was born. Within a few years of learning to walk, Prince Zuko learned all those secret ways.

Time passed, the boys grew up, and Lu Ten was a teenager by the time he saw and understood what Ozai thought of his son. And it made him think.

"Thanks, dad."

"For what?"

"For being a good dad."

Iroh never said a word, but he understood.

When Lu Ten passed, that wasn't the end. He continued to protect his cousin (more of a brother) with the secret ways, letting him avoid Azula and anyone else.

But he couldn't protect Zuko from an Agni Kai. He couldn't protect him from Fate.

But the rule-breaking continued, because Zuko knew all the secret ways. When he came to confront his father, and his destiny, how did he escape? And when it came time for the second invasion, Lu Ten's legacy was put to use once more.

"What are we doing?" Katara asked, no malice in her voice. The time for petty squabbles had passed, and it was time to act.

A rare smile graced the prince's face. "Rule-breaking," he said, pulling aside a sewer grate.

Somewhere in Spirit World, Lu Ten smiled back.

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**Please review!**


	35. Illusion

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**

I do not own.

This is a continuation of 'Hate.' I just sat down and made myself write it. I might continue on the same thread for a while.

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**87. Illusion**

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Suki had taken it upon herself to wade through the layers of illusion and lies that surrounded the Prince of the Fire Nation. She did this the best way she knew how, and the best way that a boy would understand: through a spar.

She had her fans, he had his swords, and Sokka stood sullenly on the sidelines, probably making faces and threatening gestures at Zuko.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because your boyfriend is watching."

"No matter what you do, I'll probably be the one to pull my punches."

"If you ladies are quite through?" The opponents nodded. "Fight!"

The trick was to get inside the range of the swords. Dance, avoid, dance, all the while Suki's mind at work. "I saw a lot of people when I was working as a customs agent," she said. "Heard a lot of interesting stories, too." Slash, dodge, pounce, miss. "I heard one about a Fire Nation Prince saving an Earth Kingdom kid. Now why would anyone do that?"

Slash, slash, dodge. "Because it was the right thing to do."

"Even if he was driven from their village, unthanked?"

"They were right to be suspicious. And they were poor; they could have turned . . . him in for a lot more money than they had ever seen."

"How long has the right thing been the cause of your actions?"

Slash, slash, he was getting harder to dodge. "Not long enough. I've been really stupid for a long time."

"Did your scar have anything to do with that?"

Slash, slash, the clang of steel on stones. _Everything_, his back said as he walked away. Suki had heard the stories, through luck, mostly, she figured. It was something no one talked about, and it only added to the illusion. One the prince was not ready to dispel.

Sokka picked up his discarded swords, his expression contemplative. "What's the verdict, oh judge of the souls of men?"

"He's allowed to stay."

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**Please review!**


	36. Siblings

****

I do not own.

Because everyone knows Azula isn't winning any trophies for sibling of the year.

This is also Azula before Day of Black Sun. So get yourself in that mindset.

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**37. Siblings**

_Because I'm a people person . . ._

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There might have been one thing that Azula could agree with her uncle on: Zuko was a putz. He was readable whether or not he thought he was, and Azula was good at reading people. Oh, he had avoided her for quite some time, but only with the help of their dithering old uncle, and that only made him lucky.

He was, in fact, much luckier than their father gave him credit for, and much more useful. Where Ozai's pride would have denied him the use of his son, his daughter could see the possibilities.

Of course, Ozai had spent all the years of Zuko's existence ignoring him. Azula had spent those years perfecting her control of him. It was jokingly easy to turn Zuko away from his only guide through all his years of exile.

Of course, all the boys were easy these days. She had Long Feng on his knees without breaking a sweat, and the Avatar . . . the Avatar was made ineffectual, if he was not dead.

No, boys were all too easy to control, especially since they thought they controlled the world. And the Avatar was surrounded by boys, and that little earthbender who acted like one. She was talented, but it made her just as otiose.

Azula had a harder time controlling girls. They were less pawns to be moved than competitors to be eliminated, but she had need of them. Ty Lee and Mai worked, because Ty Lee only followed the path of least resistence, and Mai could be controlled through her brother.

Ty Lee didn't see, Mai only saw Zuko, and that little blind earthbender could only see black and white.

Azula's only real competition was the other who could see the shades of grey for what they were. The waterbender.

They were not alike. That little peasant couldn't manipulate her way through a market, much less a court. But Azula recognized her as the only equal she had amongst the Avatar's little group. She didn't know why.

Maybe it was because, she, too, had to deal with an macabre older sibling. She was an exemplary bender, no matter her lack of other skills. She wouldn't play by Azula's rules, and Azula wouldn't play by hers. That meant it was back to the most basic rules of war: there were none. Someday, perhaps soon, they would find out who was, in fact, the more powerful bender.

It would take some planning. Since this girl was her equal, how would she go about defeating her? The same way she would go about defeating herself.

She would strip away the supports. Without them, there was no one and no purpose. There was only the slip into desperation, and then madness. What was the waterbender's purpose?

What was her own?

That gave her pause.

_I want victory. I want power. I will have them. It doesn't matter why. Because those things will make me whole._

So the answer was to crush every last hope of victory or that ever-elusive peace the waterbender was always on about. It meant crushing the Avatar, if it was not already done.

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Obviously, Azula doesn't know Katara. But I think Mai covered that when she broke her brain. I'm going to go cry for my favorite villain now.

Sheesh . . . I wrote four things last night, and I don't want to post them all right now. Maybe today, but not right now.

**Please review!**


	37. Sympathy

****

I do not own.

I always make Zuko such a putz in my stories, but I really love making fun of him. And everyone else. Going to treat him seriously now. Actually, everyone gets that treatment for the next few chapters, except for Lu Ten and Lin. They should be so lucky.

A continuation of Happiness, Hate, and Illusion.

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**43. Sympathy**

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Sympathy was something Zuko really should never have expected. He knew the Kyoshi warrior had an angle (everyone had an angle, a lesson hard-learned from Azula), but he bungled into that trap like he had every other.

She just hit a little too close to the truth. Zuko knew he did bad things in the past; that was the purpose of this little redemption ritual, wasn't it? He was trying to get on the right path. He was succeeding. But it was still hard, especially when no one really trusted him.

Yeah, his scar had everything to do with his past. If that hadn't happened, nothing else would have. All the bad he had done would have been null and void because it simply would not have been.

Zuko would just be a little more of a failure than he was now, and naive at that. The scar was not a good thing, it would never be a good thing, but it wasn't wholly bad.

Like a lot of things in this world.

Maybe.

Right now he didn't need the Taoist, 'balance is life' lesson on right and wrong, he didn't need the shades of grey. They were just as confusing as the black and white. Too many negative colors.

He just needed to be sure that this was the right thing, and for now, he was. It didn't really matter how hard it was; life was hard, and living with the most hopeless circumstances was, for him, as natural as breathing.

Sympathy wasn't necessary before. He wasn't so sure why he wanted it now.

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**Please review!**


	38. Rain

****

I do not own.

In my Lu Ten stories, his mom didn't die in childbirth. Everyone does that. :p This is Lu Ten's Eighteenth birthday, sort of going along with the Lu Ten saga, if you like, but not necessarily a part of it.

And everyone loves young Zuko.

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**_35. Rain_**

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Lu Ten had a spring birthday. And every year it rained. Without fail, year after year, the Prince of the Fire Nation woke up to storm clouds and humidity that disagreed with the topknot he was supposed to wear at all times in public.

The really good birthdays meant a lightning storm, when he could run about the palace pretending to exchange blows with some angry god, but that was back when he was a kid.

Nowadays he had school, and lightning was just one more thing to contend with on his way to classes. He was, after all, going to be an officer, and birthday parties were not high on his to-do list, especially after last year when Azula had thrown a tantrum when she didn't get any presents.

Birthdays were days to get drinks with friends and maybe work up the courage to ask out one of the hot female officers, but as a Prince, that was usually too much to ask for. He would have to help his grandfather preside over the feast, because no one did any presiding except for the Fire Lord, and then go through all the awkward reintroductions from fawning nobles.

His dad rarely made it to any of the parties anyways, so it was really useless. Making up for missed birthdays was more personal, and more fun.

This birthday would probably be worse than usual. It was the weekend, and that meant he had to stay in the palace all day, unless he could conjure up some halfway believable excuse to vamoose.

But it was the weekend, so that was too much effort. Lu Ten pulled the covers and an extra pillow over his head for good measure, and tried to sleep away the rest of the day.

But little kids saw fit to wake up at all sorts of ungodly hours, like eight in the morning, as bright eyed and annoying as ever. "Hey, Lu Ten! It's raining again!"

"It's too early," he whined, his voice muffed by the layers of cloth.

"But it's your birthday!" Zuko shouted, indignant. "Don't you want to go looking for your presents?"

"No."

Zuko was silent for a moment. "Are you sick?"

"No."

"You're not happy because your Dad isn't here." Zuko jumped up on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge. "I know I wouldn't be happy if my Dad was gone for my birthday."

"You get used to it after a while." There was going to be no more sleeping, Zuko would see to that, and if he didn't succeed, he would probably employ his sister to do the task, and she would, great spirits on high. Lu Ten would probably need a new room by the time she was finished.

He rolled out of bed, his hair flying in every which direction, and he was in desperate need of a shave. Yeah, the sideburns were in style but he wasn't looking for full-fledged mutton-chops.

"When will I get to shave?"

"When your older."

"How much older?"

"Whenever you start getting fuzzies around your mouth and girls start looking at you funny."

Zuko paused for a moment, fishing for another question. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really."

"What about when you cut yourself?"

"It stings a little."

Pause. Because little kids did that so often. They watched, and they learned, and they asked some of the weirdest questions, but Zuko wasn't much of a talker. It was nice when a kid could appreciate the meaning of quiet. But it was still a little . . . unnatural.

The rain continued to fall, and though it got in the way of the search for presents, it wasn't unwelcomed.

Because in the end, when everything was said and done and the party was over, the rain continued to fall. Even though his dad couldn't be around for his birthday, when it rained, it felt like his mom could.

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Oh, God, Lu Ten says all these creepy, prophetic things!! I don't even mean to make him say all that! Pippin, hide me!

Because he does it again, in a few other chapters I haven't posted. Lu Ten should have apprenticed himself to Aunt Wu to avoid the draft. T/-\T _Sad now_.

**Please review!**


	39. Imprisonment

****

I do not own.

One of these things is not like the other.

It happens to be this chapter, which is not my normal style. It's sort of Kataangish, if you want to look at it that way.

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Stop the presses!! New headline, **AStormIsBrewing writes Kataang!**

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Sir, Sir! Are you certain that won't need to be censored for the younger audiences?

This is sensationalism, peewee! Get used to it!

Yeah, I figured . . . since I did Zutara, I might as well do something Kataang flavored. Don't expect too much of it, though. I don't care if Zutara becomes canon or not. I just like it. Writing it's rival didn't really change my mind.

Good imagery and easy prey are hard to come by, and I would rather eat that much diabetic-coma-inducing-sweetness that comes with the 'innocence' of Kataang.

Because Kataang is like a doughnut, and Zutara is like Rice Crispies. If I eat too many doughnuts, I get really sick from all the sugar. But Rice Crispies aren't made of solid sugar and saturated fat, and they make funny noises, sort of like Zutara.

Oh, that came out weird. The cereal is arguing. That's what I meant.

Early birthday present for Liooness, if she thinks it's Kataangy enough. There's also some Taoist stuff in here, but I can't remember the chapter to look it up exactly, and if you aren't in the mood, that is some dry reading. But for once, I trust my memory.

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**68. Imprisonment**

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When Aang had finally found Katara (and Zuko, with Zuko, Zuko as a sidenote, whatever) beneath Ba Sing Se, he was ecstatic. Of course there was that little twinge of jealousy (they were standing so close!) but he had been all too willing to brush it off the second she had hugged him, the second she was his again, because then, all the world was right. Nothing happened, and that was that.

But as weeks went on at the Western Air Temple, Aang began to wonder. No one was asking her to trust Zuko with her deepest, darkest secrets, but she was acting completely uncivil to him where everyone else had accepted him as a fact of life if not a friend. Aang would have liked to think it was only her devotion to and worry for him that caused it, but he wasn't that stupid.

Something had happened beneath Ba Sing Se. Katara had never once spoken of that time she had spent with Zuko in the caverns, not until she had berated him after he at tried to join them the first time. She never mentioned it again after that, but Aang was sure now. Sokka would have called it instincts. Toph would have congratulated him on finally listening to the earth.

Aang called it love. There was something that went along with that, a sixth sense, maybe, that was telling him now.

So when he cornered her while she was cleaning the dishes, he tried the serious voice. "Katara, I need to know what happened between you and Zuko beneath Ba Sing Se."

"You were there, Aang, you saw most of it."

"But not everything."

"You were sort of out; there isn't much to say."

And this was how every attempt had been met. Aang had always backed down before, but now . . . "What happened before Iroh and I found you?"

Katara stopped scrubbing the pot, a truly unnecessary task for her, the look on her face belonging on ancient statues of angry gods. "Why does everyone want to know all of the sudden? Why don't you just go ask Zuko, since you're suddenly such great friends with him!"

At this point, the puppy dog eyes would usually get her. She would say, 'Oh, I'm sorry, Aang,' and hug him until he was better, but. . . .

Somewhere between now and then they had grown up.

Katara had been hurt in Ba Sing Se, and while she had done such a good job patching him up, she had neglected herself, and the wound had lain open that whole time. Now it was festering, and everyone could smell it.

"Do you really want me to?"

"To what, Aang?"

"Ask Zuko. Because I will. I don't want this going on any more." He closed the distance between them slowly, and pulled away the cooking pot. "I don't want you to hurt anymore."

She looked down at her hands and sighed, twisting the washrag between her clenched fists. With that sigh went her indecision, and she looked him in the eyes as she said, "I offered to heal his scar."

_That could have changed everything_, and Katara read his mind. She looked down. "If I had, maybe he would have joined us. Or maybe we would have lost you. Or both, or neither and then you really would have been gone." She hugged her arms. "I told your he sounded hurt and confused, and maybe he really was, but he came to some decision down there, and it obviously wasn't the right one." She shuddered. "If you had been a few minutes late. . . ."

_It's all my fault_. Katara had spent all the time that she had known him comforting Aang. But until now, he had never really . . . been in any position to give it back. She was imprisoned now by her hate and hurt, but he was imprisoned by his fear. He had to break those chains to release hers.

So instead of reaching and falling short as the moment slipped away, he took the leap without his glider, and hugged her. And then she was weeping and hugging him and saying, 'I don't want to lose you,' and he held her. There was a finality to it, though, because he knew what he had to do.

. . . _have without possessing_ . . . The scriptures came back in fragments. For once, the answer was before his eyes, and he _knew_.

He was an airbender, a monk, flesh and blood. But for now, he could be a rock.

* * *

Here's a downer for all you Kataangers: I don't think Aang is that brave. He'll take on the Fire Lord, no sweat, but I think we all know that talking to girls is a little rough.

So this romance thing . . . its not so bad. I'm going to sit in a secret bunker now, and wait for the comet to come.

So happy birthday, Liooness! I think it might actually be worthy. Watch out for other stuff

**Please Review!**


	40. Winter

**I do not own.**

To offset the shipping in the last chapter, here's a dose of unrequited love.

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**_52. Winter_**

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They say that time heals all wounds. The only thing Sokka knew was that, whoever 'they' were, they were most certainly never in love, and even if they had been, they had never lost anyone or failed their lovers so miserably.

People would say he was in the winter of his heart. Sokka would inform them in no uncertain terms that he was not.

Sure, winter was cold and barren and nothing ever grew, but it was so beautiful, and the cold could numb an aching heart.

No, he would never see that season the same way again. Not when she was at her most beautiful at this time of year. Not when the cold could comfort while he basked in her light, as close to her as he could never be . 'Yue . . .'

* * *

What, I was treating Sokka seriously? No, I wouldn't do that.

**Please Review!**


	41. Spring

**I do not own.**

Oi!

I'm sorry I haven't replied to anyone's reviews or PMs! My internet broke down some time Saturday before I got a chance to get on it, and it continued not working right up until the moment I had to leave for camp. I ninja-ed my way to the campus library after I lost my caucus, and I'm posting this now to tell you all that I'm going to be gone the rest of the week, maybe longer if my report card decides to devour my soul. I'm also going to have to get a job, and have my own money, and hopefully mow the lawn for free if it means my mom will get me cable and faster internet.

Woohoo dialup. Bleh.

And Liooness, because of the awkward situation with the computer, the rest of your birthday present is going to be belated.

So without further ado, I present to you, the rest of the story.

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**53. Spring**

_No parent should have to bury their child._

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Lu Ten had a spring birthday. In life, every year it rained. But now . . .

The sun and warmth of the in-between, the season with all the transience of spring and the cruelty of summer, with some of their kinder qualities hidden in between only underscored the loss.

Lu Ten was gone.

For all the beauty of the season and the promise of new life, Iroh knew that life could not be renewed, could not be brought back.

He had tried.

It was a cycle, and his Lu Ten had to follow it somewhere else.

But that did not mean that Iroh, once the Dragon of the West, once a proud Fire Nation Prince, was not allowed to grieve.

So tears fell instead of rain.

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**Please Review!**

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	42. Summer

**I do not own.**

I'm giving blood this afternoon! My first time ever. I'll tell you if I pass out in another post, but I'm working right now (um . . . I'm not here, shhhh).

This chapter isn't like the other seasons chapters. I didn't want to think about any more dead people. I was going to do a song fic for 'That Summer' by Garth Brooks, but it didn't really fit.

Before The Boiling Rock, because adults just mess with the group dynamics.

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**54. Summer **

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"Sokka! Sokka!!"

Sokka wasn't one for being woken up at all hours of the morning. He had drifted into a routine at the Western Air Temple, not unlike his routine back home: Sleep, Eat, Train, Eat, Mess with the jerkbender, Plan another invasion, Eat, Sleep.

Well . . . there were two new steps, but those made up for training/patrolling after lunch.

Back to the matter at hand.

"Sokka, it's snowing!"

"Katara, it's like a hundred degrees outside . . ." the teenager complained.

"I know that! Just come look!"

"If this is more stupid water magic—"

But when Sokka stumbled his way to the courtyard, just as the sun's first light peered over the edge of the canyon, he said, "Katara! This stuff isn't snow! You woke me up for some seed pods?"

"I think it's kind of nice," Katara said, twirling as a gust pushed a drift into the air. "I haven't seen snow in months."

"That's because it's summer!"

"Hey, I remember these!" Aang shouted, his air scooter propelling him into the room and stirring up more puff balls. "All the grass pods open up this time of year and the wind sends all the fluffies here!" He lay down on the stone floor and immediately began making a snow angle.

"Oh, great, now I'm probably going to be allergic—"

"Man up, Snoozles!" Toph said, punching his arm. "They're puff balls, not exactly the most dangerous creatures out there."

"Yeah, but—"

"We should try to have a snowball fight!"

"Or we could go sledding!"

Teo sighed despondently. "I'm going to need a sleigh, because these things are going to get caught in my breaks."

"See?!" Sokka shouted. "They _are_ dangerous."

"I wish more snow was like this." And all eyes went to Zuko. He hadn't even said it that loudly, but everyone was so used to having to strain to hear his raspy voice that it came out almost . . . normal. Now he was on defense, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's warm, you know . . . and not freezing?"

"That's kind of the point of snow, jerkbender," Katara muttered, crossing her arms. "And stop saying it like it's a question; everyone can feel the already-a-hundred-degrees-before-sunup heat out here."

"It's barely even ninety!"

"Oh, that's such a big difference, my mistake—"

The best part of summer, Sokka decided as he sat down against a pillar, was the entertainment. But not before breakfast.

"Is anyone going to get the food?"

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** Please Review**!

Ah, Sokka. You always have to be the downer, don't you?

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	43. Autumn

**I do not own.**

I gave blood yesterday and it was sooo cool! I didn't pass out or anything, but the needle was freaking massive! . I looked at it and felt like dying, but it only stung a little. I watched it go in, too, so you can't call me a wimp.

Even though I felt like bolting during the prep, but apparently I have good veins or arteries or whatever.

I also don't know if my internet is working at home, so I'm posting it now in the assumption that it is not.

This has to be overused . . . but it is a great song. I thought it was a fitting end to the four seasons chapters, anyways.

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**55. Autumn**

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_Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes_

_Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Moments so dear_

A year. It had almost been a whole year. It was hard to believe, because it felt like longer, but Katara stared at the reflection of the waning sun hitting the water and ice of her home and knew it to be true.

Home, where she had been a year ago. Home, where she worried for her dad, far away and fighting. Home, where she had never thought to meet the Avatar. Home, where she never thought she would help him save the world.

_Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes_

_How Do You Measure - Measure A Year?_

It was high noon, but the sun was trying to set. Winter would be back, soon. It was going to be a year.

In her childhood, because she really couldn't be called a child anymore, she had thought that a year was so long. This one sped by, while it stood still. She had lived through a lot. There had been a lot of tearful reunions, and a lot of hopeless nights. There was laughter and joy, and there was a lot of pain.

_How Do You Measure _

_The Life Of A Woman Or A Man?_

She had learned a lot. Things a year ago she never would have imagined, from powerful waterbending techniques to every possible meaning of 'love thine enemy,' those things became part of her daily life.

But she hadn't been the only one to learn, the only one to grow. Everyone who had known the Avatar changed in some way — for the better, Katara liked to think.

_In Truths That She Learned_

_Or In Times That He Cried_

_In Bridges He Burned_

_Or The Way That She Died_

They had all changed in ways that they couldn't really ignore. Not for long — so much pain and so many trials they had gone through together left their mark, and bound them. They had parted ways after defeating the Fire Lord, but they were part of each other, and they were all coming back here, to the start of it all.

_It's Time Now - To Sing Out_

_Though The Story Never Ends_

_Let's Celebrate_

_Remember A Year In The Life Of Friends_

"Is my docking any better this time around?"

"It feels like its been a million years."

"So this is your home?"

"Gonna have to see what I can do about making a steam-powered space heater."

"Hotpants over here is the only space heater we need."

"I can't see, and my feet are going to freeze off. I didn't know you guys lived in hell."

Because everyone knows a house isn't a home without the family.

Without the love.

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**Gasp!!** 10085 hits!! 100 reviews! 43 chapters! Someone, make sure the world isn't ending!

I'm going to start posting more Lu Ten stuff . . . I realized after I started writing him I had only ever seen a few good pictures of him, so I went searching around DeviantArt for a while and found one picture with the caption 'Aspiring Sideburns.' Yeah.

**Please Review**. I am so tired, so please forgive any spelling/grammatical/apocalyptic errors in the Authors notes.

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	44. Scar

**I do not own.**

So someone said, 'Do one where Aang actually asks Zuko what happened between him and Katara under Ba Sing Se!'

As much as I would love to, Aang isn't even brave enough to ask Katara. How's he gonna ask Zuko? He's a fire hazard waiting to happen. But it was a good thought, so I changed it up a little.

Dedicated to whennerdscollide for such an awesome idea.

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**12. Scar**

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The truth was that no one really knew anything about Zuko. He had chased them literally all over the world, and now he was part of their merry little rag-tag band, but he was just as much of an enigma as he had always been. Just before, his reasons never really mattered. He was an enemy.

Now he was on their side. All of the sudden, everything that had brought him to that point mattered, so that they(so Katara was actually the only one really holding out) could be certain he wouldn't just betray them again.

But what was Aang supposed to say? 'Hi, I know we barely know each other, but I was bored and I thought I would bother you about the painful-looking seared flesh on your face that's obviously a disturbing and gruesome part of your past.'

The monks had always told Aang to see things from other people's point of view, and now he understood how Zuko must have felt when he asked to join the gang.

Except Aang didn't have to ask this question. Not really.

It just came out one day during training, after Zuko had shouted a very Jeong-Jeong-like 'Concentrate!' But as soon as Aang's words hit his ears, his expression dropped. Benign seriousness was replaced by shock, his good eye wide, the skin stretching over his scarred one in a pitiful attempt to mimic the expression of the first. He batted the flames of Aang's previous attack away and stalked off. "Training's over."

That day, Zuko did not appear for lunch.

Katara had plenty to say about that, too. "He joins up with us, and now he won't teach you?!"

"I thought you didn't want him here," Sokka said through a mouthful of rice.

"It's not like he hasn't taught me anything!" Aang paced around the table, rubbing his neck. "I sort of asked him a personal question."

"What, does he wear boxers or briefs?"

"Katara, go wash your mouth out with soap. Right now."

"It's a little late to be overprotective, Sokka. I'm sorry to say, but traveling across the world with a bunch of boys has already done it's damage."

"I'm not kidding. Right now."

Amidst the banter the dilemma was forgotten, and Zuko went hungry, or so they thought. Aang had finally made up his mind to apologize some time before dinner, when he saw Katara stride down the hall determinedly, as if prepared for battle, bowl of rice in hand. And as wrong as he knew it was, Aang followed her.

She stopped before Zuko's door and rapped on the frame, the doors themselves long since rotted away. "You didn't teach Aang today," she said, her voice as harsh as it always was when speaking to him.

"I did too," Zuko replied. He was now on the defensive.

"He said you walked off in the middle of the lesson because he asked you a 'personal question.'"

"He should have been focusing on his firebending."

"The only reason you're here is to teach Aang firebending. If you're not going to be useful then you should leave." She walked into the room, and Aang heard the clack of the bowl as she slammed it down on the small dresser. "I don't know what could be so bad that you had to walk out on a lesson like that."

"There are some things that you just don't ask people." Aang could hear the anger in his voice now, and it took a lot not to be afraid.

"Was it about where your uncle is?"

"No."

"Was it why you joined your sister in Ba Sing Se?"

"No."

"Was it about how you got banished?"

"He asked how I got my scar." Aang could picture them now — Zuko was sitting on the bed, his head leaning on his hand, hiding the scar, while the unmarred side of his face glared through his bangs, and Katara was caught between revulsion and her nature to want to comfort, her arms crossed as she glared at him for making her so confused. Yeah, Aang could say he knew them at least that well. "It wasn't in a training accident," Zuko said after a long pause. "My father gave this to me when he banished me. He said I needed to learn respect."

And there was the moment, when Aang was caught in his own emotions, when he knew he should run, because they would catch him, and they would know, but there was some sick fascination in him now, and he had to stay. But Katara answered for him. "And you wanted to go back to him?! You chased us all over the world for that?! You _betrayed_ us for that?!"

"I know what I did was wrong, ok?!" Now it was a shouting match—there was no salvaging it. "I know what I did, and now I'm trying to make up for it!"

"But you're his son, right? How could he do that to you?! If my dad had ever—"

"I've seen you with your dad. I know how you look up to him and how you love him. Is there anything he could possibly do to make all that go away?"

"My dad would never—"

"I know. And you're lucky." Zuko stood up, and Aang ducked for cover behind one of the pillars. He didn't move until the prince's footsteps disappeared down the hall. Now he just had to—

"I know you're there, Aang." Foiled again. Katara was sitting on Zuko's bed, her head in her hands. "I knew you were there the whole time."

"I'm sorry, I know it was wrong—"

"Stop. Just stop." Katara sniffed, and Aang saw the tears falling under her hand. "He's done so many horrible things and he's such a jerk and a traitor but why . . . why am I crying?" She sniffed again and wiped her eyes. "Never mind. Just . . . ." She sniffed. "Never mind. I've gotta go do the laundry."

The moment was passed that could have changed it all, it passed him as Katara did, out of the room and down the opposite hall, not caring where it went so long as that was away from Zuko.

* * *

Aang caught up with him later, meaning to apologize again, but before he could get a word out, Zuko said, "I know you were there."

"I know. I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't be." Zuko tried an awkward, unhappy smile, but it slid off his lopsided face right away. "It saves me the trouble of explaining it again."

"I . . . can I say something?"

The prince was quiet a moment. "There's no one stopping you."

"I know when we first met, you told me I didn't know what it was like having a father, because I was raised like a monk. But if Monk Gyatso had done that to me . . . I probably would have acted the same way. I know you don't need forgiveness and you probably don't want pity, but . . . I know I would have broken long before you did. I don't have that sort of strength."

"You're a good kid." Zuko's smile was real now, but it was in the past and bitter and sad, as he gazed across the abyss. "But you would have done better. Now, at least, I can make sure he can never do that to anyone else." He looked at Aang now, and the fire was back in his eyes. "It's not going to happen to any of you. I'm going to make sure no one else is scarred like me."

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Bleh, everyone has the love interest ask Zuko about his scar, or has Iroh tell them about it. I think Zuko would have to choose to tell anyone. So he sort of did. But Katara is sort of angry at him right now, so I'm not sure how she would react. I'll probably do this from her point of view, or at least her thoughts on the conversation.

**Please Review!**


	45. Friends

**I do not own.**

Woohoo! I am listening to Defying Gravity right now, and I am SO pumped!! I mean, this chapter has nothing to do with Defying Gravity, but still!! Who wasn't thinking about that song during Day of Black Sun? Honestly, I had a lot of songs going through my mind during those episodes, but still.

_Too long I've been afraid of_

_Losing love I guess I've lost_

_Well, if that's love,_

_It comes at much to high a cost!_

Ok, here's how I discovered Wicked, because it has _so_ much to do with the next chapter. We played it in our freshman marching band show. We did the Music of Oz, and we played Ease on Down the Road and a medley from the first movie, but the composer played Defying Gravity for us before we read through it, and I was suddenly too wired to play. It is a _good_ song.

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**23. Friends**

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Lin was a healer. Lu Ten knew that much about her. She worked as a surgeon during the week at a hospital in the city proper, but was also somehow apprenticed to Keung Fai, the Minister of Medicine and Head Healer in the caldera, and spent her weekends with him.

In all honesty, the Prince of the Fire Nation was surprised he hadn't known her sooner, because she was available at the palace at odd hours and was always with Keung Fai whenever she had a minute off. Lu Ten's aunt, Princess Ursa, had admitted to knowing her for several years; one of Lin's first duties as a palace healer had been to help deliver Zuko, and when she came back from war, Azula.

She had served with his father on several campaigns, and his grandfather honestly valued her advice, for all that he didn't listen to it.

In truth, everyone in the palace seemed to know Lin, while Lu Ten was left in the dark. It wasn't as if he actually cared about her (she was so annoying!) — he couldn't stand being out of the loop.

But out of the loop was where he remained, until someone let something slip as if he should have know it. "You're a _firebender_?"

"Not the kind you're thinking of," Lin replied, absently picking at her noodles. "I never took any interest in developing it in a martial direction."

"What other direction is there? Firebending is a fighting disciple. We need firebenders in the army."

"Just because someone has the power to do something doesn't mean they should use it. The army needs healers, too, and no one can do what I can do with firebending. Maybe it's just because no one ever thought to learn, but this is how I want to make a difference."

"I—" Lu Ten was caught, his tongue tied as he stared at his plate. "How do you do it? Fire is a weapon. It was meant to be a weapon."

"The dragons first gave men fire to keep us alive in the cold." Lin's gaze was steady, even as she tread on the toes of the new history. "They were the first gods of storms, in the time before Fire and Water were made separate. Why should the water tribes be the only ones with the ability to heal?"

"Because fire burns," Lu Ten answered. "It's not the same as water. Fire is meant to be a weapon."

"Would you be disappointed if I told you that I don't believe in destiny?" She smiled, leaning back in her chair. "The spirits may have a plan for us, but who says we have to follow it?"

There it was, in her words and voice and posture, in his eyes and thoughts and replies. There was a world beyond palace halls and hospital walls, and somewhere in it two people were discovering how much they didn't know about it.

Maybe — just maybe — they were learning how to be friends.

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What, no songfic? I'm sorry, but Defying Gravity is a stand alone. I think I've almost ruined this CD listening to it, and I'm pretty sure my MP3 player is about to die.

Yeah. I'm a nerd. AND PROUD.

I did my junior research paper on Destiny, and I referenced Avatar more than twice(Iroh and Zuko win that award). Yeah. I won the award for Biggest Dork at camp last week.

Don't forget it.

**Please Review!**


	46. Obsession

**I do not own.**

Back to the AU. My names for them never change, though the place does (obviously).

EDIT: And I just realized I switched between Katie and Katara a couple of times. Thanks to Liooness and zestycrouton for noticing. I be stupid sometimes.

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**78. Obsession**

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Scott looked down at the papers that had been suddenly slopped across his lap. "What am I supposed to do with these?"

"What do you think?!" Katie shouted, throwing her messenger bag to the floor. "Read them, smart one. You have to choose a college sometime."

Scott picked at the papers half-heartedly, as if eyeing a plate of salad. "You know you really don't have to do this, sis. I mean, think of all the trees you're killing."

"Well, apparently, I do, because you won't take the time to look for yourself! You're so selfish, you're not even thinking about all the homework I have to do—"

"This is exactly why! You come home late and angry and you rush through your homework and then off to work. You don't understand; I'll be fine." And it was the truth. Scott was only a junior, after all, and college was more than a whole year away. He had more important things to worry about, like lacrosse and when the new episodes of 'Supernatural' were coming on.

Katie didn't get that. Something in her brain must have filtered out anything having to do with fun when she had taken on the role of 'mom,' and while that kept the house tidy and the bills payed (a social security check wouldn't raise two kids), she was stretching herself too thin, and it was beginning to show. "No, you won't! You have the grades and the brain to let you go anywhere, but you're so lazy you would settle for any old backwater community college!"

"Did you ever consider that maybe I don't want to go anywhere?"

"What?!" Katie's voice was shrill enough to make all the dogs bark within a half-mile.

"I mean, what's the difference? It's just college. I know I've been thinking about engineering or political science, but honestly, I don't know how you can help me if I don't even know what I want."

"Just college?! It's where you're going to be spending four years of your life! Forgive me if I want you to be at least comfortable!"

"I'm starting to think I would be comfortable just about anywhere," Scott replied, rubbing his neck. He turned his head back to the TV, but he still wasn't exactly catching the content. "And four years out of how many? Honestly, how much is that going to affect my future happiness?"

"It's going to effect your job, which is going to effect how much money you make, which effects everything else."

"Money isn't everything, Katie."

"But it helps."

"You know it does. Honestly, that's why I want to just go somewhere local. We get better rates in state, and—"

"You just want to be with your girlfriend." Katie sighed. "Scott, you know what they say about high school romance."

"You want me to start being serious? I am. School, a job, all that is really nothing without the people you care about. I know you work your tail off for me and for Gran-Gran, but I miss my little sister. I'm the one that's supposed to be growing up here."

"Scott. . . ." Katie fumbled with her words for a moment, trying to find another pre-made lecture. She finally settled on a disgruntled 'ugh!' and said, "You need to stop making sense."

"Hey, it comes with the office."

A few hours later, Scott was considering getting ready for bed when he heard dial tones coming from his sister's room. Since it was, after all, his brotherly duty to snoop, he felt perfectly justified in listening at her door to at least one half of the conversation.

There was a pause while she waited for the other line to pick up. "Hey, Zach . . . I missed you, too . . . I was wondering, what kind of medical program does your school have?"

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**Please review!**


	47. Blood

**I do not own.**

More Lu Ten. Seriously, how could this one not be him?

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**56. Blood**

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"Blood isn't a bad thing. It isn't scary or disgusting; it's inside everyone and it keeps us alive."

"Only when it's still inside you. Otherwise, it's just—"

"Perfectly natural."

"But you're a healer. You work with blood all the time."

Lin sighed, leaning back in her chair as she waited for her tests to be completed. In this age of Industrial Revolution, there was still only so much a healer could do, and most of Lin's diagnostic skills lay in what she could do with a clock, a vial of water, and her senses. "And from that position of expertise I can tell you it is no more dangerous than a person's skin," she said, flicking one such vial with a dark splotch slowly sinking to the bottom of it. "You can tell a lot from a person's blood, like this guy is anemic."

"See? Blood carries all sorts of diseases."

"Anemia is an iron deficiency. This person just needs to eat more red meat, or his body isn't processing iron correctly. You can't catch it."

"Still, there are plenty of diseases you can catch from blood—"

"And there are plenty you can catch from skin to skin contact. Still more from simply being in the same room as a sick person." Lin shook her head as the prince shuddered. "If you are this afraid of sickness I am not sure how you are going to be a soldier."

"I already am a soldier," he said, crossing his arms. "A human enemy I can fight. Not sickness."

Lin was no shrink, but she knew with all the healing arts she dabbled in, that she was getting closer to the root of the problem. "That's why you have healers. We help the body fight off diseases."

"But you can't cure everything."

"No. We can't." As a healer, Lin knew this all too well. Her first loss under the knife, her first few deaths of sickness, in childbirth, of people she knew she couldn't save — those ones were the hardest. "Malaria is a big one. So is Soldier's Heart. And no one is any closer to curing old age. But we have made improvements. Twenty years ago, even, if a wound became infected, there was little we could do. Now we have penicillin, and all the medicines that come off of that. We can't cure everything, but we are getting better, though some of the time-tested treatments still work wonders. Like maggots. And Leeches."

Lu Ten was naturally pale, but his pallor became a pasty grey. "You still use leeches?"

"We have some here," Lin replied, her chair scraping back a few feet to a box. She opened it and stuck her hand in; when she removed it, it was covered in black worms. "Would you like one?"

"I . . . I'm good, thanks."

"If you had a blood clot, this is how we would treat you."

"Then I'm going to not get a blood clot."

"Then you had better exercise every day and stop eating saturated fat."

"But that's the—"

"Those are the rules."

". . . Fine."

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**Please Review!**


	48. Heal

**I do not own.**

This chapter took forever to write, until I figured out what Zuko had to figure out.

I always complain about how hard it is to write Iroh, but Katara's POV is tough, too. I never give that girl enough credit.

A continuation of 'Scar.'

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**29. Heal**

* * *

When they had first arrived at the Western Air Temple, Aang had promised to take them on a tour, but the sudden routine at the temple had made that impossible.

Katara had found the Never-Ending-Echo Chamber on her own time, when she had tried to find a place to hang the laundry where it would not be blown away. It was out of the way, and even though every whisper of sound generated echo after echo, it was peaceful. Hiding amongst row upon row of linens, and half light from high, vaulted windows tracing weird patterns on the tiles, it was just what she needed right now.

This place, this entire temple was sad and lonely. It was meant to be filled with airbenders, running the halls and playing games and pulling pranks. But the halls stood empty and the courtyards were silent, a testament to what the Fire Nation had done to this place.

But Katara didn't want to even think about the Fire Nation right now, because thinking about what the Fire Nation did here made her think about what the Fire Nation did to him — never mind that she didn't know which 'him' she was talking about.

Aang had been hurt by the Fire Nation in ways that Katara could only imagine. She knew grief — when her mom died, she thought that would be the end of the world. Aang had lost everyone he had ever known and more.

But could the Fire Nation empty a person like it had the air temples? Was that Zuko's cover-all excuse?

She had hidden among the laundry-lines to escape him, but it seemed as if that wasn't going to happen.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"For what?" she said, with added venom. It was a valid question. He had a lot to be sorry for.

"For yelling this afternoon, and for walking out on Aang's lesson."

"You should be telling that to him, then."

"I know, but I'm not finished." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, perhaps. How often does a spoiled prince have to apologize for anything? "The things that have happened to me in the past don't excuse anything I've done, and no apology could be good enough to erase it all. But I'm still going to say it." He got down on his knees and put his forehead to the floor. "I'm sorry for attacking your tribe. I'm sorry for tying you to a tree. I'm sorry everything I did in Ba Sing Se."

Katara considered making him apologize for everything she could think of, but his raspy, wispy voice was already annoying. "Just get up and stop making a fool of yourself." She tossed a basket full of wet clothes and linens at him. "Seriously, the laundry isn't going to hang itself."

Somehow, that afternoon, laundry wasn't the only thing that got patched up.

* * *

If anyone cares to know why I'm posting these all today . . . I'm going on holiday. I need to work on my original story, so pace yourselves. I'm not going to touch the internet except to answer reviews and what not all weekend, and maybe some into next week.

**Please Review!**


	49. Hair

**I do not own.**

This actually happened in the industrial revolution, and Aang sort of mentions it, so I figured it might have happened in the Fire Nation. I try to keep it away from graphic, but some things you just can't. So that was your warning.

Liooness also helped me with this chapter, because research . . . I fail at it. So thank her, and go read her stuff!

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**70. Hair**

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Lu Ten was at the point in his on and off friendship with Lin in which there was a certain way he wanted to remember her. For the most part, it was when she was standing over a patient, and there was the look in her eyes that said there was nothing else in the world beyond what would keep that person alive. He was always standing close enough to her at those times that he ceased to smell the death and panda-lily smell that permeated the hospital, and could only really smell her hair, clean and un-perfumed.

At the moment, hair was the last thing he wanted on his mind.

"You did well," Lin said, opening the door of the janitorial closet. "I probably would have butchered that poor man's head even more. I can shave legs, but—"

Lu Ten's stomach took that moment to purge it's contents once again. The prince was sitting against a wall, mop bucket in hand, and not feeling any better for all Lin's praise. "I really, really hate blood. Why do I eat anything before I come here, when I know all it's going to do is—"

"Here." Lin sat down beside him, handing him a plate of rolls, rice, and very unassuming food. "Drink some water, and eat this. You need something in your stomach. I'm going to clock out early so you can—"

"You don't have to do that."

"I've already requested the time. I think you deserve the rest of the day off. You are getting better, you know."

"Yeah," the prince sighed, picking at the rice. "But please try to hire more doctors."

"If I had anything to do with that, I would."

The Emergency room was more frantic than was usual, industrial accidents from all over the capital coming in just as the work day was ending. Lin was helping one of the healers reattach a man's scalp(it had been pulled off by a belt in a textile mill), but as the supervising healer that night she had been called off to another room just as Lu Ten arrived. The other healer, an older doctor transferred from a military hospital and unused to any disobedience, had mistaken Lu Ten for a nurse and told him to help prep the man for surgery.

By the time Lin returned, Lu Ten was on autopilot, muttering "Pomegranate juice . . . pomegranate juice . . ." as he shaved what was left of the man's blood-slick scalp.

"You helped save that man's life," Lin said.

"Can people really die of getting their scalps pulled off?"

"Yeah, though usually it's other injuries that do them in. There's this one tribe near the Great Divide—"

"I never asked that. . . ."

"You implied it. They take the scalps of captured enemies as trophies, and that isn't just propaganda. I remember treating a few men like that. They usually die of loss of blood, or infection, or just shock, and their skulls are always extremely exposed, and even if we can do something, their hair rarely grows back—"

"What was that you said about clocking out?"

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	50. Innocence

**I do not own.**

I was thinking of what best to write for Liooness' birthday, when I remembered a recurring theme in our debates over the merits of Kataang and Zutara.

Hey, if it works. But it's non-shipping. Already stepped out of the box with the Kataang chapter(I'm proud of myself for that).

But seriously, this is the backlash of Tales of Ba Sing Se.

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**7. Innocence**

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Life had been going rather well for Pao over the past few weeks. The rational part of his mind warned him that it was going a little too well, that soon Mushi would be arrested as a wanted outlaw or would drop dead, but for the moment he would ride on the tide of money and fame that was provided him, and pray, pray that it would only get better.

And it wasn't as if he hadn't already hit an interesting snag — the chime on the door was only a death knell on the seventh hour after sunrise of the fifth day of the third week of every month when the demon-child came to pick up tea for her father. Supposedly he had taken care of that problem the previous month, but he should have known it was too good to be true.

"I thought you were expressly forbidden from ever setting foot in my property again, pest!" the irate shop owner yelled, complaints falling on one pair of deaf ears and those of a few extremely annoyed customers.

The little girl, no more than eleven or twelve, crossed her arms and planted herself against the doorframe. "Listen, my dad is working overtime at his job, and he's sending me to do his anniversary shopping. If I was here to annoy you, I would just call the health department."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna bet? With how good the tea is here all of the sudden, you have to be adding human blood to the brew or something. This place was _awful._"

"I'm afraid you're incorrect in that assumption." Mushi had been in the back of the shop, and witnessed the confrontation. Pao almost expected him to be irate — it was impossible not to be, dealing with the child — but the tea-maker only looked mildly amused.

"Oh, right, I'm sorry. The secret is not letting Pao anywhere near the pot."

Mushi's expression seemed to drop. He glanced at his employer and said, "Not that, either." He turned to the boxes of herbs behind him. "What was it your father wanted to order?"

The girl took this as an invitation to ignore Pao and enter the shop. She crossed over to the counter and pulled herself up so she could see. "Something special, and I mean really special. My mom is really particular about her tea. Insanely particular."

That was the beginning of a long and disturbing afternoon.

"I got the tea, dad! Dad?" Ciana was used to coming home with her father there; he was a Dai Lee agent and he generally worked the night shift in the lower ring. It wasn't time for him to leave yet.

One of the benefits of being related to a Dai Lee agent was getting a home in the upper ring. Ciana only had a problem with her situation in life when she had to look for something in a house that was really too big for a family of three. She ran through the front rooms, to the kitchen, where she left the bag by the teapot, sitting out on the counter. A slip of paper stuck out from under the iron pot; Ciana looked at it for a moment then ran back out to the front rooms. Her dad's office stood open, which was a perfect invitation. She grabbed his brush kit and ran back to the kitchen.

She grabbed the note and read over it (_here's money, go buy your mother a spa package_) and scraped a note onto the back with the still-solid ink stone (_Ok_), before running out the door. Children her age did that; they rushed and rushed and rushed, and Ciana, well . . .

She ran right into a hole.

If she ever wanted to be a real earthbender, or even the first female Dai Lee agent ever in the history of Dai Lee agents, she could have to start noticing those things. The bridge wasn't that big, and the creek she fell into wasn't that deep, but still. Getting wet was no fun when you were wearing regular clothes. And she should have left the inkstone at home, because now it was all over her clothes and in her hair and on her face from when she tried to get the water out of her eyes and ears.

No time to worry about it!

Ciana ran for the Spa.

But she never got there. She was so dirty a noble type mistook her for a lower ring urchin and told his guards to escort her back where she belonged.

Ciana was certain she did not belong in the lower ring at night, which was exactly where she ended up. The gates closed, _clang!_ and the lamps went on, _whoosh!_ and Ciana was back where she started.

Which meant she should probably go back to the teashop.

Ciana never really liked Pao, but somehow they were related and her dad always went to him for his bad tea. Because of that, he had to take care of her, even though someone would probably end up covered in cabbage-stew by the time the night was over.

But admitting to him that she had actually been kicked out of the upper ring was probably a bad idea. She would never hear the end of it.

Maybe if she snuck into the Tea Shop after it closed? Yeah, perfect!

Ciana forgot that the tea-shop was open twenty-four hours. She had been waiting in the alley outside for over an hour, when she saw the day shift people leave and the night-shift ones come. Mushi began walking in the direction that must have been the apartment that he shared with his caustic and super-awkward teenage nephew who had sort of tripped his way into a date with another super-awkward ditzy girl teenager (Ciana swore up and down she would never act like any of them; anyways, she was going to be a Dai Lee agent and therefore could not be ditzy or super-awkward). Doing her best impression of a Dai Lee agent, Ciana moved to follow him.

Ciana was so focused on her sneaking that she almost didn't notice Mushi turn around suddenly and spot her. She slammed herself up against a wall and tried to earthbend herself some camouflage, _Become one with the rock!_ But the only rock she managed to summon became one with her forehead.

"Uncle, what's a girl doing in my room?!"

"Stop yelling in my ear!"

"I'm not yelling in your ear!"

Apparently, the girl's aim was just as bad when it came to washrags as rocks. The one she threw at Zuko missed him completely, flew out of the room, and nearly knocked over the teapot and its stand. How Iroh managed to catch it without dropping the tray filled with teacups and dinner plates could be attributed to years of practice (Lu Ten had gone through an extremely clumsy phase, followed by the extreme sullenness most teenagers exhibited).

"She knocked herself out practicing her earthbending," Iroh sighed, setting aside the tray and the wet rag. "We'll let her stay here for tonight, and bring her to the Teashop tomorrow. Pao seemed to know her."

Ciana would have said something, but her head really, really hurt, and teenagers were really, really loud and obnoxious, so sleep was, for her, the best option.

By the time she convinced Mushi and his annoying nephew that she was fine and could make it home on her own(the nephew didn't take much convincing), it would have taken a herd of stampeding animals to keep her from home.

Of course, this was exactly what she had to contend with before she got out of the lower ring, when she saw some bald kid speed past like he was flying or something, all sorts of animals that looked like they belonged in a zoo speeding behind him. On top of the layers of mud and ink, Ciana now sported a thin layer of dust. Enough was enough.

She used the money her dad gave her for the spa package to buy herself a train ticket to the upper ring. She had to share a car with a bunch of funny smelling hippies, but they sang good songs and she probably smelled worse.

"An' there was this one story about the Prince of the Fire Nation and his wacky old uncle. Kid was supposed to have a big, ugly scar on his face, and the uncle really likes tea. They're supposed to be cursed to chase the Avatar for all eternity or something like that."

"For real?"

"Yeah, hey, you know I met the Avatar, once. He's a nomad, too, you know—"

One of their songs was rather catchy and gave her a good idea: she would avoid getting thrown out again by using her earthbending to make tunnels to go home.

Ciana pushed the lecture she was definitely going to get from her mind and belted out the chorus. "_Secret tunnel! Secret tunnel! Through the mountain! Secret, secret, secret tunnel!!_"

"You've been gone all night! Do you know how worried your father and I were?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?! Because you know what, it's working! And why are you covered in ink? You think you're an inkmonkey now?"

"But mom! I fell in a hole and got ink all over me then they kicked me out of the upper ring and I followed Mushi the tea guy home but I think Mushi is really General Iroh and his nephew's really Prince Zuko and they gave me tea and said I could stay with them then I almost got run over by a little bald kid on a glider and I think he was an airbender, mom!"

"Right. Come on, you had better get cleaned up if you want to go see the monkey show—"

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	51. Intermezzo

**I do not own.**

Welcome to the intermission. This is where you would usually get a drink or eat or use the bathroom in a play, and I figured it would be good to include a wake-up call for anyone reading.

This is going to be long.

It's also where I'm going to post my ridiculously long rants that I usually have for _Of Herbs and Stewed Plot Bunnies_, but were somehow cut out of most of these.

Huh.

Well, I figured I ought to tell you, in the spirit of the season finale, the biggest disappointment for me thus far in the series is not Maiko, avid Zutarian though I am.

It's been the lack of drag.

Seriously, in book one, Suki hooked Sokka up with the Kyoshi warrior outfit, and Aang got the same treatment in book two.

**_I WANNA SEE ZUKO IN A DRESS. Not a manskirt, not a kimono, a DRESS._**

Stop looking at me like that. You know you were thinking it when you were watching the credits for 'The Boiling Rock Part 2.' "Hey, we haven't seen Zuko in drag yet, have we?"

I want my cross-dressing!!

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**Intermezzo**

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Oh give me a home

Where the sky bison roam

And the monks and the airbenders play

When the world was still free

While The Fire Nation seethed,

And the Avatar kept them at bay.

Gone, gone are the days

When the monks and the airbenders play

But a century's gone by

And a hero shall rise

And the Avatar's saving the day.

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It also happens to be the last part of Liooness' birthday gift. She gave me a lovely series of songfics, even stepped out of her zone to do Zutara, so I'm doing what I can to return the favor.

The other parts of her birthday present are Imprisoned and Innocence.

Wait.

WAIT!!

Heheh . . . alliteration.

**Please review!**


	52. Creation

**I do not own.**

I am sooooo bored.

Originally I was going to do something deep and philosophical about creation myths, but I decided against it. And just so you know, I'm working on a season finale special, so I might not be around as much.

Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooored.

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**36. Creation**

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Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, that was the way of the world and the way everyone lived. It is expected, it is known.

But nowadays, creation starts in a hospital. Lucky how that was where Lu Ten spent his days, ever since his grandfather decided it was time for him to overcome his potentially career-threatening fear of blood.

Creation was also something private enough that Lin had told him to wait outside the delivery room until it was over — yes, Lu Ten understood the mechanisms of it, and no, he didn't want to watch anyways. So he waited, watching the nervous husband pacing back and forth until a nurse came and brought the man into the room. A baby's cries escaped the room for a moment as the door stood ajar, and the words _congratulations_ and _healthy._

Lu Ten didn't know when he had started holding his breath, but it all whooshed out now. His father had told him once, after Zuko had been born, that when babies were involved in anything, people became emotional, irrational. So it was perfectly natural for anyone to be a little nervous while one was being born.

There was really no need for it here, though. Lin was the best healer the Fire Nation had — as annoying as she could be sometimes. She knew what she was doing when it came to anything medical.

She also seemed to know what she was doing when she leaned out of the room and said, "You should see this." The smile on her face was not the one she used when she planned on laughing him out of the room. Her expression was more serene, more gentle. It was the only reason he agreed.

"There are some good things that come of blood," she said, as a few nurses carried piles of bloodied linens from the room. "This is one of them."

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Methinks they are getting along too much.

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	53. Pain

****

I do not own.

This is me, foaming at the mouth. That finale was amazing, even if Aang got off easy.

I mean, it was like the world was giving us signs all day, too. There was a Discovery Channel special called 'Comets: Prophets of Doom,' which I watched for the sheer fangirling pleasure of . . .

Yes. I'm a nerd. I love history almost as much as I love writing which I love more than I love breathing.

But I also like learning things, which didn't happen in the season finale. They just sort of left Azula hanging, and they're still dangling Ursa above our heads, and WHO TAUGHT ZUKO HOW TO BE A NINJA?!

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**13. Pain**

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_. . . Here is a snake! With safety you cannot take it with you, nor can you leave it behind. To slay it would be just. But it was not always as it is now. — J.R.R. Tolkien_

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In the courtyard was the sound of madness. Clanking and screaming and crying and the flash and whoosh of flame, it was a sound both pitiful and terrifying.

Despite the warnings and prompting and pleading of palace healers, sages, and an angry waterbender, Zuko would not move. He watched his sister rage in her madness, his baby sister, the one who wanted so badly to kill him, the one he had failed to defeat. If not for Katara(and his own stubborn arrogance, his big mouth had given her the idea after all), he would have been dead. But also he would not have to face this choice.

"I did everything I could to convince Aang to kill our father, but now I know what he must have felt." Azula did not acknowledge him; she only continued to wail. "I don't want to kill you, but what can I do with you?"

For once, Princess Azula of the Fire Nation had no answer save to scream.

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	54. Hope

**I do no own.**

This is a throw-back to the Intermezzo. I meant the song as a parody, but some other people got me to see it in a different light. Now it brought me to this.

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**Hope**

_Oft hope is born when all's forlorn. - J.R.R. Tolkien_

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Shadow, then light. Cool, then warm. Clouds, with free, deep blue skies in between. There was a breathy whisper of wind through tall blades of grass, blackened, broken stumps, and the skeletons of behemoths that, exactly one year ago tomorrow, rained fire from the skies.

But life was restored to this place. Aang absently swung a blade of grass back and forth in his mouth, a habit he must have picked up from Jet, or Toph, or any number of friends who were not so blessed with easy social mannerisms(Fire Lord or not, Zuko was on this list).

As the Avatar in a world unused to peace, Aang did not have time to watch the clouds. His eyes followed their edges, but his mind was miles away, in Ba Sing Se where the people were demanding reparations from the Fire Nation's empty vaults, to the Northern Water Tribe who had forgiven their war debts while preying on shipping and trade(but damn their plausible deniability), to starving refugee camps and under-funded veteran hospitals. _I defeated Fire Lord Ozai,_ he thought, _but I still needed help. I'm trying to help these people, but they won't help themselves._

The war was over, but hope was still so hard to come by. There were bandits preying on travelers and no one to catch them. There were soldiers coming home to no jobs. There was anarchy. There was poverty. There was sickness.

There was violence, and in some places, it was hard to believe that the war was over.

There were some who would not let go.

All these were problems that Avatar Aang needed to solve, and quickly, before war returned and claimed those who had so narrowly escaped it.

There was so little time for anything, for reunions, for friendships, for love, that it was so easy to let everything fall apart without even realizing it, but Aang had learned a long time ago (the little boy he used to be was in another life, another time, a closed book) hope was not something to give up so easily.

But Philosophy has it's time and place, and when a person is so engrossed in the workings of the mind and of problems far away, her or she will fail to see the answer in the now. Perhaps not the answer one was looking for, but an answer that would be welcomed all the same.

It took Aang several minutes before he realized he was humming a tune carried over the wind, the words a simple whisper from far down the coast. The slow, twangy lullaby played in his ears, until . . .

_Oh give me a home_

_Where the Sky-bison roam_

_And the monks and the airbenders play . . ._

The verse drifted off as the breeze died, but Aang had heard. It was no memory, no trick of the wind.

It was fate.

Epiphany. Eureka. Because some things are not always obvious.

That voice was not coming from along the coast. It was coming from above it.

No trick of the wind. No misplaced hopes. Aang snapped open his glider, and flew into the sky. _I know what I heard._

Where there is hope, there is life, even where none seems to be.

_I am not alone._

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	55. All That I Have

**I do no own.**

It's really funny, because I'm starting to realize just how much inspiration I'm getting from Lost. I had the idea for Lin's character before I was ever introduced to Jack, a total kick-butt doctor who I really couldn't care less about until I realized just how hard-core he was.

Or maybe that description should be changed to 'demented,' because that's how people get when little things like death start getting in their ways. I started seeing other similarities, too, with their ideas on destiny. I have her saga planned out, I have her not believing in fate for a reason, and I get the feeling it's the same plot-twist Jack is going to have to face.

Psht. Doctors.

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****

97. All That I Have

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Demented.

It was the word that stood silent, waiting on Lu Ten's lips. The weird thing was, he had to be catching it, too, because he knew that there was a carriage outside that would return him to the palace and deliver him from this hell.

But here he stayed.

Lin surrounded herself in carnage. Submerged herself in it. There had to be something wrong with her, something wrong with anyone who chose to work in medicine, because this exposure was not natural. It belonged far away on a distant battlefield, with faceless soldiers the victims.

This was the soil of the Fire Nation. These were the streets of its capital city. This was chaos, where it clashed with balance, here within the walls of a hospital.

* * *

Normalcy had defined the day up to five hours past the sun's zenith. It was hot, the dog days of summer. Because heat stroke was not a chance to indulge Lin's theory of exposure in curing Lu Ten's phobia of blood, she treated her patients while the prince watched, the long hall silent as she paced along the rows of beds, pushing aside a curtain here and there to converse with a patient.

A sailor had come in the day before with a broken fibula(Lu Ten only remembered that it was the small bone in the leg). Lu Ten had guess bar fight, but the sailor insisted giant squid, and cited a serious case of bad Karma. Beyond being superstitious, the man was a fortune teller, a raving lunatic among the many in a crew filled with misfit scientists and retired seamen (and women; their captain was a woman, but they were funded by a family of merchants).

Despite being a 'woman of science,' who 'didn't believe in destiny,' she put a lot of weight to the sailor's 'abilities'.

That was what they were doing now. Or, that was what they were pretending to do. Lin was on break, sitting with the crippled sailor, and Lu Ten had better things to do than watch her flirt. The problem was, the entire floor was so quiet that the two could have been shouting.

"Every kid reads _I Ching_ in school," the crazy was saying, "but no one really looks any deeper. Not many people, anyways. But the _I Ching_ is a tool of prediction."

_She doesn't believe in destiny, stupid._ Lu Ten wanted to stand up and scream it across the room. He wanted to throw the patient manifest at the sailor and get him moved to the ward for severe cranial trauma. But Lu Ten was the only psych case at the moment.

"Could you give me my reading?"

Lu Ten couldn't have told anyone just why he laughed, but Lin and her patsy looked up. "It, um . . . phalanges," he said as an explanation, holding up one of the medical periodicals. Lin gave him the weirdest look, but immediately turned back to her 'patient.'

"The _I Ching_ can only help answer specific questions, like how something would be affected by certain circumstances." _So, in other words, it's hippo-bull crap. _"If you have a question in mind—"

"How will the influenza pandemic in the Hu Sin provinces affect the outcome of the war?" _The Hu Sin provinces provide most of our coal. Mining operations have already slowed, everyone is getting sick. Even I could tell you that's a recipe for disaster._ Fortune telling wasn't _that_ hard.

The sailor pulled out a deck of cards and began to shuffle them. "Our first Firelord, Fu Xi, composed the system of fortune telling based on the eight trigrams, and the sixty-four ways that they can be combined. Each combination has its own meaning." It was just sickening how she payed attention to it. Hypocrite. "Different combinations of the cards can mean different things, too, as yin changes to yang and back. Now choose a card."

Lu Ten watched Lin pull a card, her back to him, and lay it on the table by the patient's bed. "Gou," the sailor said. "Now one more, and leave this one face-down." The healer did as instructed. "Gou is the combination of Heaven and Wind, vitality and grace. It is a good time for meeting people." That corny smile, that stupid laugh, those horrible teeth, and that uncultured accent all screamed 'I'm a person!' "I would say, in relation to your question, you, or maybe the higher ups, should begin seeking out allies. The pandemic in Hu Sin will unbalance the entire region.

"The next card, Pi, tells you to be wary of this in the future. You will need to re-evaluate the factors that drive you, and adapt to a changed world. Your best efforts may not be enough, they may even hinder your goals, if you are running in the wrong direction."

"That's funny, because—"

And that was the moment that time stopped.

* * *

At first, Lu Ten, prince of the Fire Nation, had been terrified, petrified. His mind raced back to six years old, when the only thing that could have caused an explosion of that magnitude was a volcano. He raced to the roof of the building, didn't even stop to help Lin to her feet; she was already running. They arrived there, winded, but instead of smoke billowing from the caldera, it came from the waterfront, the munitions factory.

Relief flooded him, knowing that his home wasn't burning, knowing that his family was safe, but when he heard the light tap of Lin's feet as she raced back down the stairs, he had to follow. His family was safe. Others were not so lucky. He was a prince. He should be able to do . . . something.

The factory was only a few blocks away, and it continued to explode, to spread fire over the district. The fire crews raced through the streets, shouting for people to evacuate the district from their rhino-drawn steam-driven water-pumps.

A carriage was waiting outside, with a terrified driver, caught between a raging fire and a raging Firelord who would have him executed if the prince died as a result of the driver's panic. He sighed in relief as the Prince half-limped, half-walked out, supporting two patients who could not walk on their own, and lifting them into the quickly-cramped carriage, as other doctors, nurses, and healers carried or walked their patients outside(those who could walk ran, without looking back).

Lu Ten's order to the carriage driver was simple: "Get these people out of here!"

"But sir—"

"That wasn't open for interpretation!"

There were other carriages and other people, and commandeered wheeled vehicles that transported the rest of the patients out of the path of the fires, now spewing enough chemicals and acerbic smoke to sting the eyes and the lungs, worse than any volcano. Lin paused, turning to watch the flames envelop the building nearest the hospital, just across the street.

Lu Ten didn't wait to ask permission; he grabbed her arm and would have dragged her back to the caldera at a flat run if she hadn't broken his grip. At that moment, several things happened at once.

He shouted at her that they had to move, as he coughed into his sleeve; the roar of the fire escalated to a deafening noise that culminating in another explosion; and Lin slipped into a form that the prince had known of, but never seen used. There was a blinding flash and a peal of thunder, and a piece of flying, flaming debris was diverted from the hospital. Probably a useless gesture, as the lightning ignited a pocket of flamable gas, but that was now the problem of the fire control crews.

Lin said something, but too softly to be heard over the fire. Lu Ten wasn't concerned enough to hear it; his main focus now was to get them out. It was sort of surreal, the way everything was unfolding as if he wasn't really there. Lu Ten was a bistandard in his own skin, disconnected from the part of his brain that was making all the decisions to run and help people and keep a good hold on Lin's wrist so that she wouldn't be lost in the crowd.

It took him a while to realize that she was shouting at him to go to the forum. "That's where they'll send all the evacuees," she shouted when she got his attention. The greatest noise to deal with now was the crowd. "The emergency medical units will be set up there; that's where I have to be!"

They got there with the rest of the crowd. By that time, the red tents with their white and red flags were set up, with rows and rows of cots where people screamed and were sedated and were lost or saved by whims of fate.

Unless Lin was their healer. Those ones were in her hands, and she did save the ones she could and the ones she couldn't. This was Lin's world, she lived there, among the carnage, outside of the world where tragedy was not supposed to strike. This was where she lived and what she was used to, so she could withstand it where others could not.

Lu Ten, Prince of the Fire Nation, fit into this 'could not' crowd. He watched her numbly, followed her orders blindly, could barely feel when he was rubbing some sort of herbal remedy into the burns that would not be, or could not be sewn shut. These people would be scarred for the rest of their lives, and there was little anyone could do besides drug them up and hope it was enough to dull the pain.

Healing, with burns especially, was a long, slow, doubtful process. Some of the people being treated would never walk again. Some might never move. Still more would succumb to infection, because there was simply not enough penicillin in the city to treat everyone who would need it.

"Why do you have to keep fighting a losing battle?" he asked finally, when they had both pushed themselves too long, when the sun was high in the sky on the day after.

"It's only a losing battle if you quit," she said, her voice tight. "Do you think I should just give up?"

"On the people you can't save? Yes! Focus on the ones you can help."

"There are other people who can help them. My colleagues are very capable. I'm here," she said, "to save the ones everyone else has given up on."

"You know you can't save everyone."

"Then why are you wasting breath telling me something I already know?"

That day passed in silence. It took officials from the palace that whole amount of time to locate the prince and the Head Healer's apprentice, who was late for her usual duties by more than twenty-four hours.

These officials and friends from the academy half-carried Lu Ten to a waiting palanquin, to be taken back to the caldera, giving half-formed answers to sleep-addled questions. Lin remained in the field hospital. It was, after all, her home.

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Rope burned her hands and charcoal scraped her legs as Lin made her decent into the pit that was once her hospital. Burned fragments of wood cracked beneath her feet but failed to stir the ashes in the damp air. A blanket of fog had rolled in off the sea as the rains finally stopped, reducing her fellow doctors and healers in the distance to fuzzy silhouettes.

There was one form that was closer, more defined. Lu Ten glanced around the ruins, lost in his own musings.

"Some day," Lin said, her voice falling a little flat, and far short of the banter she had aimed for. "Guess it'll be your last day. Your month is about up, and we won't get this place up and running again for a while—"

"Do you know what started the fire?"

Lin walked forward carefully, her mind buzzing through where she would be in the building if it wasn't a pit full of ash and charred beams. "Dynamite sweats when it gets to over ninety degrees. It destabilized and someone handled it improperly."

"And how many people died?"

"Now might be a good time to follow your own advice and worry about the people you can save." She walked in a direction where no shadows seemed to roam. Lu Ten was crunching along behind her, his steps slow and stiff. He was feeling it still, the effects of standing for hours on end, running to and fro, and the more than physical fatigue that weighed down the bones and refused movement to the limbs. Lin knew the feeling; she had not been born to that world, but she had lived in it long enough to be able to at least confront it.

The trick was being able to function through the pain, while being aware of it. It was important for a healer to know his or her limits, or a patient would suffer the consequences.

It was three days after the explosion and subsequent fires. Lin had slept most of the second.

Lin sifted through the remains of a large oak desk, reading through the half-burned documents in its draws, while Lu Ten brushed aside ashes on the ground. "How many people do you think we can save?" he asked, his face a mask.

"That depends on what we recover in this little salvage mission. Any medicines, patient records, they can all help us treat people." She stood up again, as one of the documents crumbled in her hands. "This work was my everything. It's all that I have."

"We'll make sure it's rebuilt," Lu Ten said, still sifting through ashes. He had found a box, which he picked up gingerly. A look inside must have revealed what he wanted to know; he snapped in shut quickly and walked over. "And you could never go long without a job regardless. It's a useful last possession to have." He handed her the box. "But we probably could add to that list."

Lin took it, a little wary of what might be inside of it. Lu Ten wasn't this inscrutable. He had always been so easy to read, except right before the explosion; then he had been acting a little — "I can't believe this."

Inside the box were many small, well-wrapped bottles of penicillin, all unbroken. "We need to get these to the field hospital right away," she said, closing the box and walking as quickly as she dared.

"So I don't get a thank you?"

"I told you I don't have much," Lin said, turning around.

"I can take a rain check. Just . . . save those people that I said you couldn't a few days ago."

"_That_ I can accomplish."

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A/N: The Sailor always appears in these morbidly long chapters. But hey, what better way to celebrate his sailor-ness? (For those of you just tuning in, yes, that was the sailor from 'Into the Flames.')

Fu Xi actual only came up with the eight trigrams, but a few other people were responcible for the fortune telling system. I just used Fu Xi because 'Firelord Wen' sounded funny. Both were emperors of China, or at least parts of China.

On another grrreat! note, I have high-speed internet at my house now, but for anyone who thinks I might update more regularly, guess again.

School wants my _soul._

It's like there's no time anymore. There are a bunch of great fanfics, great books, great movies, and great TV shows that I just don't have time to explore. Like I would love the chance to get into Psych and Monk, but those time slots are reserved for Star Trek, Law and Order, and Lost, currently. Then I have band, which rules over all with an iron fist.

Sigh. The life of a writer.

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Please Review!


	56. Abandoned

**I do not own.**

_**NEWSFLASH: I really am a tropical storm now.**_

I just about choked when I heard my name on the news, spelled wrong, of course, thinking, 'What have I done this time?'

Apparently, I've just rolled over Cuba and am currently pouring rain over the Florida keys, but my wind speed has not yet reached hurricane velocity, at only 40 mph instead of the necessary 74 mph.

More information on my path of destruction is expected shortly.

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**84. Abandoned**

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"There are three things to remember about being a starship captain. Keep your shirt tucked in, go down with the ship, and never abandon a member of your crew." — Star Trek: Voyager

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As a member of the Fire Nation Admiralty, one had to live up to expectations. Of course an admiral had to win battles, on land or by sea, whenever a boat was involved, and bring honor to his country, his family, and his Fire Lord. He could not associate with underlings. He must always adhere to strictest military discipline.

He could not think of only a single crew, because every ship sailing under his Nation's flag was his ship, every man who worked the decks and boiler rooms was a member of his crew. But it was impossible for him to keep them safe, once he set them into motion.

That was the job of his captains and courier hawks.

That was the job of his former student.

"It must rankle you to report to me," Admiral Jeong Jeong said, sitting at his desk. His ready room was silent, and sparsely decorated. Nothing but navy-issued furnishings and a lone picture frame sitting face-down on the desk found their way into the room to distract the admiral.

"It is an honor to serve under your command, sir."

"Why do you insist on lying through your teeth when we both know your nature, Zhao? It is unfortunate that Commander Wen did not know more of it when he promoted you." The old admiral's voice had tightened with anger. "Your last mission was a disaster."

"I accomplished our objective."

"By sacrificing your ship and half your crew! That does not even begin to cover the civilian lives lost, both Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation—"

"They were harboring rebels, which made them traitors. There was no real loss."

"They were treating the wounded soldiers according to their protocol—"

"With medicine and materials that should have been reserved for our troops, which, according to _my_ protocol, is an act of treason that demands immediate and swift punishment. This is war, admiral. I judged the situation as you taught me to. Now, as I have been transferred to the command of Admiral Chan, if you have any complaints concerning my conduct, I suggest you take them up with him."

Due to that sudden transfer, straight from the War Chamber of the Fire Lord, Captain Zhao (soon to be commander, according to messenger chatter) could thumb his nose at his former teacher and superior officer, as he turned on his heel and left the room.

The man had pleased the Fire Lord, and the war council, and had become a hero. He lacked the scruples that inhibited baser human behavior, and that made all the difference.

As Jeong Jeong knew him, though, he was self-serving and self-centered, a most loyal soldier as long as his interests aligned with those of his lord. He only sought advancement, and though he thought he hid it well, the old admiral did not doubt that the Fire Lord knew that should the blow stray his tool would turn on him. Zhao did not know his danger, for the only use of such a tool was to be cast into the fire either to be consumed or remade, and his was too poor a steel to reforge into something useful.

Admiral Jeong Jeong could agree. This was war. He had had enough of it.

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Yeah, I though J-Dawg ought to have a mention somewhere. I guess it fits, what with this chapter having slightly more finesse than a cudgel.

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